Not just a fling
by chaoshead13
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is a student model who loves the attention his job gives him. What happens when a certain person in his new school not only doesn't fall for his charms, but finds him irritating as well? AU USUK
1. Welcome to Hetalia Academy

Arthur Kirkland glanced out the student council room's frosted window, gazing down at the noisy courtyard below. The worn cement surface returned his gaze, its stare only broken when the odd student would trample along it, making their way to the front entrance of the building. Sliding his chair closer to the window, the emerald eyed male dully leaned his elbow on the window sill, frowning at a cluster of heads that crowded the entrance way.

" Oi, Kiku. Who the bloody hell is that?"

Turning his head, Arthur motioned over to a small Japanese boy who was organizing a stack of papers into a file cabinet on the other side of the room. The boy, Kiku, made his way over to the other male, smiling politely.

" Who do you mean, Arthur-san? "

Raising his arm, the sandy blond pointed to the cluster of people by the front doors, singling out a shot of sunny blond hair noticeably bright even in the midst of the crowd. Kiku peeked out from behind the teen's shoulder, his eyes following the direction of Arthur's arm. He answered.

" Ah. I believe that is the new transfer student, Alfred F. Jones - san. " The dark eyed male paused, contemplating silently for a moment. " He is also the new model for the American magazine, Hero panic. It is quite popular, I believe...do you find him interesting, Arthur-san? "

The emerald eyed male cast a fleeting, sidelong glance at the Japanese male, catching the amusement that had crawled into the other man's dark eyes, even as his stance remained stoic with the polite smile still plastered on his face. Arthur ignored the question.

"...what time is it? "

Kiku answered immediately, not sparing a look at the clock. " 8:28 am."

Sighing, Arthur returned his gaze out the window. " Class starts in two minutes, they should be heading to homeroom by now...Gilbert? "

A young white haired male grunted in answer from his spot on the room's lone couch. His fingers moved in a fast fury as he focused on fiddling with the iphone in his hand, a game blinking on it's screen. The male didn't bother to look up as he awaited the student council president's orders. It came only a moment later.

" Crowd control. "

Gilbert's face contorted with a dark smirk, red eyes flashing with mischief behind pale strands of hair. He staggered upwards, mock saluting in affirmative and snatching a pile of yellow material from a shelf while rushing out the door, smile widening as he set off to prepare for his 'job'.

* * *

Alfred F. Jones groaned as he approached the building where he'd soon be attending the rest of the school year. It was rusty grey in colour, dull with no ornaments and from the placement of the windows, three stories high. No one would believe that, he, the Hero, one of American's top teen models would be attending such a plain, and unawesome looking school. If it wasn't for his parents and their stupid idea of getting along with his what's his face brother, he wouldn't have to be here at all.

Striding through the front gates, Alfred strutted forward with a confident air. Even in the midst of a horrible situation, he was going to show everyone just how awesome he was. Making his way towards the school entrance, he smirked to himself as a stampede of teenage girls rushed at him, squealing out profanities that might have once been his name.

" OMG! OMGOMGOMG! You're Alfred F. Jones!OH! MY! GOD! I'm like you're biggest fan! Can I, please,please, PLEASE, have your autograph? ! "

Alfred grinned brightly at the attention. Heaven be damned if he didn't love it. Procuring a pen, he winked at the girl. A petite red head with glasses. Cute. But not his type. Smiling, the blue eyed male lifted the pen up to his cheek, striking an adorable pose and making the crowd of girls scream in joy. He smirked when one of them even broke down with a nose bleed.

" Of course! Where'd ya like the Hero to sign? "

The girl squealed at the blue eyed male's smile as she shot a finger at her chest, surprising Alfred with her boldness. Leaning over, the American scribbled his name on the red head's front, adding a crudely drawn smiley face and the phrase 'the Hero', at the end of his messy signature. He resurrected his confident stance once more, preparing himself for the bombardment of bodies pressing towards him, all screaming for autographs. Alfred sighed happily, complying to the demands. Damn, he loved his job. Being a model was exhausting but the number of perks and the amount of attention that came with it were worth the effort. Signing shirt after shirt, his eyes strayed upwards to an open window situated at the second floor of the building. Azure met emerald as his eyes fell on a figure gazing out the window with his elbow resting on the rail. The other's emerald orbs almost looked as if they was glowing from the distance. Alfred paused for a moment, earning moans of disappointment from his fans, and raised his hand in the air to wave at the green eyed male. Because if the guy was staring at him, that must mean he was a fan, right?

Flapping his arm incessantly towards the figure, Alfred frowned when the other male didn't return the gesture.

So he waved harder.

The American's expression rose when the sandy blond responded to his wave the second time. A small smile entered the boy's face, one of amusement, as he raised his arm, not to wave back, but to point upwards. Confused, the blue eyed male squinted, trying to get a clearer look as the green eyed male began to mouth something. Fortunately, as a model, the blue eyed male had experience with lip reading, an awesome skill that he gained after constantly trying to decipher directions from photographers in a noisy studio. Alfred read the sandy blond's lips slowly.

_Look up._

His line of sight rising upward, the eyebrows above his bright blue eyes furrowed as his gaze rose up to the third floor to find nothing there. About to tear his gaze away, he froze as he spotted a flicker of movement from one of the windows. The movement became more defined as the window slid open violently, causing a deafening clatter that could be clearly heard even from the ground. An Albino dramatically posed at the open window, arrogantly leering down at the crowd below.

" Bow down to the Awesome Gilbert you unawesome brats, or face my awesome punishment! "

Gilbert continued to pose as the crowd looked up at him, some of the girls booing and flinging insults at the red eyed male.

" Go away, Gilbert! No one likes you!"

" You're so not awesome! "

The German laughed, unaffected by the offences.

" Kesesesese~" Smirking, the Albino disappeared from sight for a moment, returning with large yellow balls painted with poorly drawn bird faces in each hand. He leaned backwards, preparing to fling the balls forward and laughing maniacally.

" GILBIRD! FLY! PUNISH THE NON BELIEVERS! "

Propelling frontward, Gilbert released the balls from his hand, shooting them ahead into the crowd. One of them landed less than two meters from where Alfred stood, an explosion of water scattering onto every unfortunate bystander in its range as it burst. If it wasn't for the crowd of fans surrounding him, it was no doubt the American would have been one of those unfortunate victims as well.

" Fuck! He's throwing water balloons again! Run! "

Another balloon flew over Alfred's head, causing the crowd around him to scatter, leaving the American to stand alone and confused. Hesitantly, he began to quickly head into the building to safety, first stealing another glance at the second floor window. The emerald eyed male was still there, but the small smile had widened into one of unrestrained amusement. Meeting each other's gaze once more, Alfred could've sworn that he heard the other chuckle even from his distance. The sandy blond gave one last smile before leaning back away from the window, bringing the curtains in along with him and hiding himself from the outside world behind thick curtains. Tearing his eyes from the window, Alfred stumbled towards the entrance, making it only a second too late. He felt his back soak with water as he heard a harsh snap as a balloon exploded behind him. The Albino's annoying laugh was the last he heard as he entered into the school building.

" Kesesesese~ Looks like I got golden boy! "

* * *

" That wasn't very...gentlemanly, Arthur -san. "

The two males rested under dimmed lights behind the closed curtains of the student council room. Both students were seated behind separate desks, Kiku looking over another stack of paper while Arthur was resting his head on thetable's surface. Smirking, the emerald eyed male looked up at his Japanese companion, making eye contact.

" What are you talking about, Kiku? It's not very polite to hold me responsible for that bloody albino's actions."

The Japanese male smiled softly in return.

" Ah. I apologize for that, Arthur-san. ", he returned his attention to his task at hand. " But it seems to me that Jones -san has caught your attention.

Smirk falling, the sandy blond moved his head comfortably into his arms, sending a sidelong look through the slim opening of the curtains.

" That wanker? ", he turned his eyes away from the light. " Ha! Don't be so daft! A blasted git like him isn't even worth a second of my bloody attention."

* * *

Grumbling, Alfred locked himself behind one of bathroom stalls, sliding off his soaked shirt. He crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it into an empty pocket of his backpack.

_Those damn bastards! This was one of my favourite shirts!_

Reaching into his bag, the American pulled out a clean shirt that he had fortunately chosen to bring for his phys. ed class. He tossed it on, giving himself a one over. The shirt was a plain cotton white, loose and comfortable, but completely unsexy. Swinging open the stall door, Alfred pouted at the sight in the mirror. Of course he looked awesome in everything he wore, but the plain white shirt was just that.

Plain.

And Alfred F. Jones didn't do plain.

Frowning, the American resigned himself to his fate, slinging his pack over his shoulder and shuffling out the door, making his way to towards his first class.

..._Room 1-5...history._

Tilting his head side, Alfred examined the room numbers down the hall, pacing through the empty corridor. It was already fifteen minutes into class and he knew being late for his first day at his new school wasn't going to leave a good first impression. But seeing how it was history class, his worst subject second only to English, the American decided to take his sweet time getting there. He could always blame the guys who soaked one of his favourite and not to mention expensive T-shirts for being late. They were lucky that he wasn't wearing his bomber jacket, otherwise he'd have been pissed. And they wouldn't have liked it if he was pissed. Running his hand against the lockers' locks, a loud clattering sound resounded through the empty hallway as he continued to glance at the room numbers.

" 1-2...1-3...1-4...1-5", Alfred grinned at his discovery. " Found it! "

Strutting towards it, the American flung the door wildly to announce his presence. He grinned at the sight of the students gawking at him from their seats in the room. The teacher appeared to be asleep, head on his desk.

" Hey, you guys! ", Alfred waved at his fellow students as he strode into the room. The teacher blinked drowsily, tilting his head to take a peek at the new entry.

" Ah...you must be the new transfer student. "

Grinning, Alfred nodded erratically, pointing to himself to his thumb. " Yup! That's me! Alfred F. Jones, the Hero!"

The teacher smiled slightly at the American's enthusiasm before giving a small nod.

" I'm Mr. Karpusi...you're late for class..."

Flashing another smile, Alfred winked at the male teacher. " Sorry 'bout that! I was a little busy with something! "

" Ah..then just take your seat."

Nodding, Alfred headed to an open seat to the back of the room, dropping his back pack onto it and slumping into the chair. The American was about to reach towards his bag to grab his textbook when he heard a whisper from his left. He glanced over, seeing a girl with dual pigtails gazing down at him.

" Hey. You're that model for Hero Panic, right?", the girl gave a friendly smile at the American, a smile that Alfred returned.

" Yeah! Are you a fan? "

The girl nodded. " I'm Michelle Sechel! It's nice to meet you, Alfred! "

Alfred grinned. " You too!"

Resuming his previous action, he slipped the history textbook out of his bag. As the teacher began to doze off again, the door swung open, interrupting the class for a second time. A boy with sandy blond hair entered. Mr. Karpusi looked up once again at the door.

" Mr. Kirkland...your late too..."

Arthur sent a gentlemanly smile at the teacher, bowing slightly in apology and speaking in an accent that was unmistakeably British. " I apologize for the interruption, but the principal has given me the morning off to deal with a few matters. "

The teacher tilted his head in slight confusion. " Mr. Roma? Then, why did you come to class?"

Arthur turned towards the classroom, giving Alfred direct sight at his face and the colour of his eyes. The American jumped up at the recognition.

" It's you! You're the one who-"

The emerald eyed male cut him off, resuming his conversation with the teacher. " Mr. Roma asked me to give the new transfer student a tour of the school and help him find his classes...though it seems he found this one without a problem. "

Giving a nod of understanding, the teacher gazed over to the standing American. " Yes, that's him over there... It looks as if he recognizes you. "

Arthur's eyes slid over in Alfred's direction, his emerald orbs unreadable.

" No, I don't believe we've met. ", turning back towards the door, the sandy blond cast a small glance at the wide eyed American. " Well then, when you're ready, I'll meet you in the hall "

With that, he exited, leaving the sunny blond staring in surprise at the empty doorway. He stuffed his textbook back into his bag, standing up to leave. Michelle grabbed his wrist, staring at him intently before he had the chance.

" Don't get on eyebrow's bad side alright? If you get on his radar then you're in for hell."

Alfred looked down at her, smiling. " No worries! I'm a Hero! I can handle it! "

The pigtailed girl shook her head at the American's answer.

" Not with him.", she pointed to a boy with dark brown hair in the class. " See him? That's Antonio Carriedo. He did something to Arthur during our freshman year and it made eyebrows pissed so he did something back to him. The guy couldn't even stand looking at him without screaming for the rest of the year."

Alfred frowned at the Spaniard, sitting obliviously in his desk. He looked fine.

" 'Kay. ", the American nodded at Michelle, trying to look serious and not buying for a single moment that the weird guy with bright green eyes could ever be dangerous. The pigtailed girl saw through him and sighed.

" I'm just giving you a warning. You don't want to get on his bad side."

Nodding his head again, Alfred carried his bag across his shoulder and headed into the hall where the sandy blond was waiting.

* * *

Taking his first step into the corridor, Alfred spotted the green eyed male leaning against a locker. The moment the teen saw him, he corrected his posture and primly stepped towards the American, stopping in front of the slightly taller male.

" It is a pleasure to meet you. ", Arthur extended a hand forward. " My name is Arthur Kirkland, the president of the student council. And you are...?"

Alfred stared frozen at the extended hand before his eyes climbed towards the other male's face. He deadpanned. " You don't know who I am?"

A nerve bulged on the sandy blond's forehead as he glared darkly at the American. " Of course, I know who you are! "

Alfred frowned, confused. " Then why'd you ask? "

The emerald eyed teen scowled, scoffing at the other male. " Because it's proper to introduce yourself to someone just met. Now hurry up so I can end this blasted tour and get on with my work, you uncultured git! "

Arthur took off down the hall, leaving the American to chase after him, pouting. " Hey! Why are ya being so mean ? ! I just wasn't used to people not recognizing who I am because I'm-"

Spinning around suddenly, the sandy blond turned to face the other blond, with a mocking expression on his face. " What? Because you're popular? Famous? Don't be so arrogant, Jones! Just because you're a celebrity doesn't mean everyone bloody likes you!"

The American furrowed his eyebrows at the shorter male. What was his problem? He was just trying to be nice! Frowning, Alfred tried to think of a come back to say to the other teen. " Well...You have huge eyebrows!"

Emerald orbs darkening, the student council president took on a threatening aura as he stared eye to eye with the golden haired male. " Do not EVER make fun of my bloody eyebrows! Do you understand me, you blasted yank ? ! "

Alfred frowned, not sensing the dangerous atmosphere. " Well, they ARE big, you should trim them or som-"

The Brit didn't bother to wait for the American to finish his sentence as he continued back down the hallway. Alfred followed soon after, increasing his pace, careful to not lose sight of the other.

* * *

After several minutes of silent fuming, Arthur began the tour of the school, pointing to each room in turn. " The first floor has the gym, workout room, locker rooms and the classrooms for English, History, French, Spanish, geography, music and theatre. There are two restrooms, one by the front entrance and another one by the gym. The only other class you have on this floor other than history is English which is in room 1-8 "

The Briton led the way towards a set of stars leading towards the second floor. " This floor has the cafeteria, the Science wing and the student council room. You're taking Physics class in room 2-2 and the Chemistry and Biology classes beside it in rooms 2-3 and 2-4, do you understand me? "

Arthur glanced back at the American, who strangely hadn't spoken for the entirety of the tour. Alfred caught the glance and nodded.

" Yup! I got it! This school more interesting than I thought!", he paused. " Hey, what's on the third floor? "

" The third floor has the library, the teachers' and principal's office and storage rooms."

The green eyed male continued forward, as the American followed. " That's all. Do you have any questions? "

Alfred increased his pace to walk side by side with the other male, tilting his head to get a clear look at the shorter male. The teen had tousled, sandy blond hair, messy but with a look of softness to it. If you looked beyond the eyebrows the Briton wasn't all that bad looking, with the bright emerald eyes and defined jaw that gave him a sharp look, it was easy to call the male handsome. His body wasn't anything to laugh at either, slim but not too thin with lean muscles showing in his arms and probably the rest of his body if it wasn't covered with a forest green sweater vest. Tearing his eyes from the delicious sight, the American answered the Brit's question.

" Yeah! I got one question!"

Arthur sighed at the improper grammar in the sunny blond's question, but decided against correcting it to hear the question. " What is it? "

" Why'd you and that other guy throw water balloons at me? "

The sandy blond glanced at Alfred, frowning. " I didn't throw water balloons at you. "

" But you knew that guy was going to!", Alfred argued. " You pointed up at him! "

Arthur let out another sigh. " So you're going at me for warning you? Ungrateful git. "

" That's not what I mean! "

The emerald eyed male remained silent for a moment before answering. " Gilbert wasn't throwing them at you specifically. He was trying to get that irritating crowd around you to stop blocking the entrance. The method he uses is up to him. "

" But he still hit me with a balloon! That shirt was really expensive, y'know!"

" Belt up, you whiner! ", Arthur quickened his pace, heading towards a door near the end of the hall. Alfred followed after, asking a second question. " Why are so mean? You're acting like you hate me or somethin'!"

The emerald eyed male stopped in front of the door, taking out a key and inserting it into the lock. " That's because you irritate me. Now leave, the tour is over."

Alfred pouted. " Why?"

Disregarding the American's question, Arthur swung the door open, revealing the student council room where Gilbert was once again lounging on the couch while Kiku held a clip board in his hand. The moment the door clicked open, both males looked up.

" HEY! It's golden boy! How'd the water feel ? "

Alfred frowned at the sight of the person who was the one who soaked one of his favourite T-shirts. He grinned, deciding that it wouldn't be Hero-like if he sulked about it. " Awesome, actually! Y'know you should lemme return the favour. I bet you wouldn't be so much like an asshole if you cool off. We should get together some time so I could pour a bucket on you! "

The Albino smirked at the American's retort. " Kesesesese~ You've got guts! I like you! "

Striding into the room, Arthur ignored the two arrogant males, heading over to the student president's desk. Kiku handed him the clipboard as he approached. " Arthur-san. The clubs sent you their budgets."

Nodding, the emerald eyed male took the clip board before scanning it and returning it back to the Japanese teen. He glanced at the door where the American still stood. " What are you still doing here, Jones? The tour is over."

Alfred pouted from the door way. " But I don't wanna leave! "

Scowling in return, Arthur glowered at the golden blond haired male.

" Starting today, as a student of this school, you are expected to obey figures of authority, myself included, Mr. Jones.", the student council president turned to face the American directly. " Now leave, unless you wish to be given detention on your first day of school. "

Returning to face his desk once again, Arthur lifted a stack of paper, looking over it. " Also, I don't know how much that prestigious school of yours allowed you to misbehave, but here, I will trust that you will follow the rules with no exceptions. If you can do that, then on behalf of the student council..." the president paused for a moment, looking back at the door to examine the new transfer student. " I welcome you to Hetalia Academy "

* * *

_**A/N: I just wrote this because I felt like it. If you guys like it then, review and tell me! Then I'll continue! If I do, rating might go up but I'm not making any promises. **_

_**Oh yeah****! I just bought the second volume of Hetalia today and while I was reading the character intros I noticed that Japan's birthday is on February 11th! That's today, where I live! Happy Birthday Japan! And it says that Spain's birthday is on February 12! Yay Spain!  
**_


	2. A declaration of Lo,I mean, War

Alfred sat through the first half of his chemistry class tapping his finger incessantly against the wooden surface of his desk with a pout on his face. The American was sulking, pissed at the fact that he'd just literally been kicked out of the student council room then had the door violently slammed in his face. He just couldn't believe that anyone would slam a door on _**him**_. The Hero! And for no reason at all! And he was just standing there being awesome, too!

Continuing to rap his finger against the hard surface, Alfred bit his lip in increasing annoyance at the memory of how easily the student council president had insulted and treated him like some sort of nuisance. No one had ever done that before.

Not even his parents.

And it pissed him off.

" Get together with your assigned partners and go through the questions on pages 142 to 144 in your textbooks. The questions are due by the end of class, so no fooling around. "

Snapping out of his sulk session, Alfred glanced up from his desk, at the assignment written on the board. He slid his textbook out of his bag, flipping through the pages before he turned his sight to the room . The rest of the class were each paired up with another student and were either talking, or already setting up to work on their assignment. Alfred raised his hand, waving it to get the teacher's attention.

" Hey teach! I wasn't given a partner!"

The teacher gazed up from his desk for a moment, frowning. " Your partner's sitting beside you, Alfred. "

Lowering his arm, Alfred swivelled to turn to his side, confused. He didn't see anyone take the desk beside him since the class first started. But, looking over to his side, he saw that there was indeed another male, one with violet eyes and light golden hair, seated in the desk. Alfred grinned brightly at recognizing his brother.

" Mattie! You're my partner? That's awesome! "

The American slapped his hand on his brother's back, earning a whimper and a small scowl from the violet eyed teen. Matthew glanced up from his work to acknowledge his twin " Hey, Al."

Ignoring the greeting, the American continued to slap his brother on the back, talking jovially, and not noticing the cringes of pain the smacks earned.

" Man, it's great that we're in the same class! I haven't seen you for a long time since you went on that exchange trip to Canada! "

Matthew feebly tried to inch away from his brother's reach, his back starting to ache from the repeated strikes. " That trip was last year, eh. And we live together, so I saw you this morning...I was also was in all your classes this morning... "

The American's grin fell as he tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled .

" You were?", he paused, furrowing his eyebrows in more confusion. " And we live together? "

Matthew shook his head dejectedly at the question. " This is why mom and dad made you switch schools..."

* * *

Time left in class disappeared quickly, with no work done on Alfred's side. Instead, the golden haired blond was chatting away into Matthew's ear as the other male tried to focus on the work in front of him and not snap at the noisy American, before time ran out. Unfortunately, the way the other male kept flapping his mouth loudly wasn't helpful.

" So the guy just slams the door on me! On ME! The Hero! Can you believe it? He was just telling me to follow the rules then he breaks one by kicking me out the door! And then he fucking locked it before I even got the chance to get up! I didn't even do anything wrong! I was just standing by the door, mindin' my own business. What a jerk! It's like he's got a permanent stick up his ass or something! I don't know what his problem is but he really should get laid!", the American paused for a moment, the silence being music to the other's ears. " Hey Mattie? Ya listenin' ta me? What'd you think of that jerk president, Arthur Kirkland? "

Matthew gripped at his pencil, trying to keep his annoyance in check and almost snapping it in half. He turned to his older brother with a strained smile on his face. " He's not bad, eh. He can be strict sometimes but he has good leadership. "

The blue eyed male frowned at the answer. " But he acts like some posh old guy! And he wears sweater vests like an old man too! Y'know, I think he's jealous of me or something 'cause I'm so awesome and he's not. That's why he's so mean! Right, Matt?"

Matthew nodded, deciding it was better to just agree to whatever his brother was saying instead of starting an argument that the American, with his stubborn mind set, would undoubtedly win. He turned his head back in front of him. " There's five minutes left in class, Al. You should start working, eh."

Turning his head towards the clock, Alfred swore at the sight of the time. He stared at his brother with pleading eyes, pulling up his bottom lip into a pout and successfully planting a heartbreaking puppy dog expression on his face . " Let me copy yours, please Mattie ! "

The violet eyed male grumbled, trying to glance away from the increasingly watery eyes that his brother was sporting. After a moment, he grudgingly agreed. " Fine."

The American's face lit up as he silently cheered at his win. " Thanks, love ya bro! "

Matthew just shook his head dejectedly in response. Why he did these things for his brother would be something he'd never understand.

**

* * *

**

The moment the sound of the bell echoed through the school signalling both the end of class and the beginning of lunch break, Alfred rushed straight for the cafeteria, giving a triumphant fist pump at finding that he was the first person there. He ran up to the empty line, making his first order for lunch.

" Can I get six burgers, four large fries, two apple pies, and two chocolate milk shakes? "

The lunch lady looked up at him, shocked at the large order, almost dropping the newspaper she was reading. Alfred smiled in return using his model smile, smirking when the lunch lady blushed. Just one more sucker who fell for his charm. Still blushing, the lunch lady set off to prepare his order, leaving Alfred alone until a second male entered the cafeteria. The American turned to the entrant, frowning at the sight of the student council president standing beside him. Arthur was reading a book, although the title was out of Alfred's line of sight.

" Hey, why are _**you**_ here? "

Arthur glanced up at the American, his face displaying an 'are you stupid' expression. He answered after returning his attention to his novel.

" The cafeteria is a public area, Jones. I'm entitled to be here. "

" But you don't have to stand right beside me! I'm still mad at you for kicking me! Why'd you have to be an asshole and do that anyways? I wasn't bothering anyone! "

A nerve began to pulse in Arthur's temple as he sharply snapped the book shut and glowered darkly at the American. " Your very existence is an irritation to me, Jones. I was merely ridding the room of a nuisance. "

" I'm not a nuisance! I was probably doing you guys a favour with being awesome! You're probably just jeal- "

Alfred was cut off when the lunch lady reappeared with his order as well as another tray topped tea and scones. She placed his meal in front of him, smiling both at the American and the emerald eyed male.

" Arthur! I assumed it's tea and scones today, too?"

Scowl disappearing, a gentlemanly smile appeared on the Brit's face before he reached out to take his tray. " Yes ma'am. "

The lunch lady smiled softly at the politeness before bidding the teen goodbye. Arthur made a move to find an empty table but his effort was paused when Alfred shot his arm out and gripped the smaller male on the shoulder. " Hey! I was still talking to ya!"

The scowl returned on the sandy blond teen's face before he turned back, glowering. " And I wasn't listening. Now can you remove that blasted hand of yours before your fan club begins making plans to lure me into an bloody alley and stab me?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, Alfred turned towards the cafeteria entrance and saw that dozens of students were already making their way into the room, and that there was indeed a group of teenage girls whispering to themselves excitedly and shooting especially dark glares at Arthur. He loosened his grip on the Brit's shoulders allowing the other male to brush it off.

" It'll be better for both of us if you sod off and go entertain your groupies, Jones. ", the sandy blond crinkled his nose in disgust at glancing the large pile of food on the American's tray before moving past Alfred, towards the tables. " Oh, and enjoy your lunch. "

Continuing to make his way forward and resuming his search for an empty table in the now crowded cafeteria, Arthur muttered to himself in a voice loud enough for Alfred to hear. " ...as if I'd ever be jealous of a child. "

Scowling, the American swivelled to face the Brit's back, calling after him. " I'm not a -"

Before he could finish his sentence a group of girls rushed up at him, grinning ecstatically. " Alfred! Can we all eat lunch with you? ! "

Looking down on the girls, the American smiled professionally, though he was a little annoyed that he was interrupted. " Of course! Where'd ya'll want to sit? "

The girls giggled manically, sharing looks with each other before leading him to a table with even more overexcited fans. Glancing at the direction where the Brit last took off, Alfred saw Arthur still reading his book alone, a cup of tea in hand. He turned away from the sight following the group of girls, smiling.

**

* * *

**

After a full fifteen minutes of entertaining his fans, Alfred began to feel bored. The American wasn't a patient person by nature and a couple of minutes of answering questions with a constant smile was all he could handle before his patience wore thin. So, turning his sight towards the room, he tried to lookfor something that could keep him entertained for even a few more minutes. There was nothing. He tapped his feet impatiently, sighing quietly, and getting up to find something to do that was more amusing than keeping a group of giggly girls pleased. Excusing himself from the table, he winked at the girls, hoping that the gesture could keep them satisfied for the rest of lunch break. Fortunately, it did for the moment, allowing Alfred to find something new to play with, mainly a sandy haired Briton.

" Arthur! "

The American called out to the emerald eyed male, strutting towards him. Arthur was still reading his book alone, though he spared a small, annoyed glance at the approaching male. The Briton sighed, irritated, as Alfred dropped down in the seat across from him.

" Bored already, Jones? "

Alfred grinned at the other teen." 'Course not! I was just..."

The sentence trailed off as the American scratched the back of his head, thinking of something else to say. Arthur sighed a second time. " You were bored."

This time Alfred agreed. " Well, kinda..."

Flipping a page of his book, the sandy haired blond mumbled quietly to himself. " Attention span of a child as well..."

The American, being just across from the Brit, heard the comment and frowned in response, eyebrows furrowing. " Stop calling me a kid! We're the same age! So if I'm a kid then so are you! "

Arthur glanced up from his novel, scowling, though his eyes held a flicker of amusement. " I was talking about your mental age, Jones "

Alfred's frown deepened at the remark

" Stop being so mean! I'm not a child! ", the American retorted, his voice rising. The volume of his voice caught the attention of several students in the room causing them to look over at the two males, curious. Arthur, noticing this, and not wanting to cause a spectacle sighed and decided to take action.

"Do you want a caramel, Jones? ", Arthur reached into his pocket, procuring a small, individually wrapped piece of candy, and handed it to the American. Alfred took it without any qualms, though slightly suspicious at the Brit's change in attitude. And like Arthur predicted, the tiny piece of candy raised the American's mood, wiping the frown off his face as he sucked on the piece of candy, thoughtfully. The Briton smiled slightly at his victory and at the proof that the Alfred _**did **_have a mind - set of a person half his age.

" So. What 'cha readin'?", Alfred asked. He leaned over the table to take a peek at one of Arthur's open pages, still sucking on the caramel in his mouth.

Arthur flipped through another page, not bothering to look up from his novel to correct the American's grammer and scowl. " It's ' what are you reading' not 'wha 'cha readin', git. And what I am reading is none of your business. I'm not here to entertain you , Jones, so either leave before I castrate you or shut up. "

" Hey! You're being mean again! ", the American pouted slightly before lighting up in a grin. Shutting his mouth, he quietly shuffled behind the Brit, who was too focused with reading his novel, and plucked the book out of Arthur's hand, earning an indignant cry of protest from the other male and quickly striding back to his side of the table.

" OI! Give me back my bloody book, you wanker! ", Arthur yelled, shooting up to snatch the book back from out of American's reach. He swiped air as the table hindered his reach while Alfred just grinned at the Briton's effort, prancing back farther from the emerald eyed male's range.

" Ha ha! I bet this is some boring old history novel or something! "

The American flipped the book open, smirking as he began to read a sentence from the book aloud. " Alice moaned in pleasure as James thrust into her faster...and..."

Alfred's voice dropped with his smile as he realized what the novel really was. " Porn? "

Arthur glared at the golden haired blond as he sent his hand forward in front of him, motioning at the American to hand back his precious porn novel. Alfred just stood silently, reading another sentence of the novel, making sure that the first one wasn't a fluke. He frowned, looking up at the angry emerald eyed male. " You were reading porn? "

Rolling his eyes, the student council president scoffed sardonically. " Do you plan on reading the entire bloody page to make sure, Jones? Of course it's bloody porn, now give it back. "

The American looked back at the page then at the smaller male. " Why are you _**reading**_ porn? "

" Because I prefer not to look at mindless smut that serves nothing but to lower my I.Q "Arthur sneered, annoyed at blue eyed male's stupidity. " Is it too much for you for daft wanker like you, Jones? Do you prefer to look at girls exploiting themselves in front of cameras for other's entertainment? Or maybe you'd prefer to look at pictures of yourself while jerking off? If that's all, give back the bloody book. "

" No. ", Alfred snapped the book shut in anger at the Briton's words. He just wanted to have a little fun teasing the guy, but Arthur had gone too far. " Stop acting like a jerk! You've been mean to me ever since I walked into this school. It's not fair! Why are you being such an asshole? !"

Arthur glared back in return, answering with his voice dripping with scorn." How many times do you want me to repeat myself, Jones? You irritate me. Did you think I'd be nice to you just because you were a celebrity? I told you before, you can't expect everyone to like you just because you're a self-proclaimed hero. "

" That doesn't mean you can act like a damn jerk wad! "

The American slammed his fist on the table with aggravation, attracting the attention of every student in the cafeteria. Arthur just let out a long sigh, as if bored.

" Is attracting attention and calling me names all you can do, boy? " Arthur reached his hand out again, signalling the American to return the book once again. Alfred slapped the book on the table, azure orbs ablaze and stared directly into the other male's eyes.

" No! I'm gonna show you how awesome I am! "

Arthur picked his book off the table, brushing it off as if it touched something dirty and placing it under his arm. He returned the American's gaze, amused. " Oh. Is that so? And how are you going to bloody do that? "

The blue eyed male grinned, his eyes carrying a challenge. " I'm gonna make you fall in love with me! "

Arthur doubled back in surprise at Alfred's words, as did the majority of the cafeteria. None of them had expected him to say what he did, but once they composed themselves, many of them, the girls especially scowled, jealous of the Briton. Others, such as a green eyed Hungarian smiled with amusement. Arthur's face went blank as he seemingly examined the American..

" Is this your way of sicking the pack of angry girls behind you on me? ", the emerald eyed male's expression rose to a smirk. " Clever."

Alfred scowled, annoyed that the Brit wasn't taking him seriously. " I'm serious! I'm gonna show you how awesome I am! I'll win! And you'll see how amazing I am!"

Arthur's smile fell for a moment as something dark past through his eyes. He muttered to himself, quietly, too quiet for the American to hear. "...win? Does he think this is a game?"

The smirk on Arthur's face quickly returned, though the amusement in his eyes previously were no longer present. " If you want me to fall in love with you Jones, I suggest you work on that appalling grammar and arrogance of yours. Right now, you're not even remotely appealing to me. Nor will you ever be. "

The emerald eyed male turned his back to the American, walking over to the trash bin to dump the empty styrofoam cup that had once held his tea . If Alfred had seen Arthur's face at that moment, he would have seen the smile gone, replaced with something akin to disgust and anger. Striding out the exit, Arthur made his way to the student council room with all the students parting to make way for the livid president. Alfred was left standing in the cafeteria, staring at the door with new determination. He wasn't going to lose! Arthur was going to see just how awesome the Hero was!

" I told you not to piss him off, Alfred..."

Surprised at the sudden voice, Alfred turned to meet the source, catching sight of two familiar pigtails . He grinned at seeing Michelle.

" Don't worry! I'll definitely win! ", the American's grin dropped for a moment. " Kinda annoying that he's not taking me seriously though. "

Michelle shook her head. " You've made him angry, Alfred. He's taking you seriously..."

She glanced at the door, where Arthur just exited, a little worried. " You should watch out. I'm on the student council so I know him pretty well. He's pretty scary when he's pissed. "

Alfred smiled again, bright and reassuring. " That old man won't stand a chance against the Hero! "

Sighing, the pigtailed girl shook her head again. " You just declared war on the president of the student council, Alfred. I'm not going to take sides but Kiku and Gilbert will. They're pretty lax, but they've known Arthur for a long time. If they're going to take sides...they won't be taking yours. "

* * *

Arthur slammed the door to the student council, with more strength than needed, causing it to shudder against it's frame. His face was contorted in absolute rage as he strode to his desk, loosening his tie and dropping down into his chair. He gritted his teeth angrily, his emerald orbs darkened.

" That blasted git! Thinks messing with me is game, does he? "

The teen clenched his fists on his desks, glowering at the empty room. After a moment, the door clicked opening, allowing a Japanese teen to enter into the office. Kiku quirked an eyebrow at the angry Brit before smiling slightly.

" Ah. So the rumours of Jones -san's confession is true?"

" Don't call it a confession! You'll make it sound like it's bloody worth something!", Arthur scoffed, glowering. " Anyways, you heard? "

" Yes. Gossip travels rather quickly here, I suppose.", Kiku answered, walking over to his own desk in the room.

Arthur sighed. " It does, doesn't it? How was you meeting with Mr. Karpusi?"

The Japanese flushed slightly before smiling softly. " It was rather...eventful, I would say. And how was your lunch with Jones -san."

" Arrogant gits like him disgust me.", Arthur's eyes darkened again. " He challenged me to a game."

Kiku glanced over at the student president. " A game? And? "

Arthur smirked darkly. " I'm going to give him one. "

* * *

** A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I decided to continue it. Love you guys! Oh and there's a reason why Arthur hates people like Alfred so much but the reason won't come clear 'till later chapters! I might've made him more cynical than I intended 'cause I was kind of mad when I wrote this chapter because of some annoying people in my life. I'm okay now though. Also, Matthew will probably have a bigger part in later chapters but I'm having a hard time deciding who I should pair him with right now. What do you guys think? France or Prussia? If I pair him with Prussia then France will go with Seychelles but if I pair him with France then Prussia will be happy to be alone, at least until I decide to pair him up with someone else. Doesn't really matter either way, but it's one or the other. I put a poll up...should be on my profile... Well, I just updated new chapters for both my fics at the same time so I'm a bit brain dead right now. Review~~~**


	3. What's a game without toys?

The day after the cafeteria challenge, Alfred rushed into Hetalia academy hell bent on commencing his awesome plan to sweep the obstinate Briton off his feet. He ran through the halls, ignoring all rules against that, and headed towards the student council his anticipation, the American even bothered to wake up an hour earlier than he usually did, just to sweep back his hair neatly and hand pick a set of freshly ironed clothing that he knew would make any stubborn type like Arthur tremble at his awesomeness. And from the glances he received on his way to the student council office, he knew that his choice was spot on.

" ARTHUR! Get ready to be wooed by the HERO! "

Bursting into the student council room, bright grin on his face, Alfred struck a sexy hero pose at the door, meaning to shock the emerald eyed male out of his wits and give his plan a jump start. He remained in the pose for a good thirty seconds before he actually looked into the room, frowning at the unnatural silence. The room wasn't empty, no, but the ones that were in the room weren't the person he was looking for.

Both Gilbert and Kiku were present, staring up at him with wide eyes and biting their lips, trying to suppress what looked like huge amounts of laughter. The Albino was sprawled on the couch, clutching at his sides, in pain of suppressed laughter. Once he noticed the American's attention was finally on the room, he burst, crashing on the floor and convulsing with loud giggles. Even Kiku chuckled a little.

" What the fuck was THAT ? !", Gilbert gasped, trying to breathe in a sharp intake of air even as the laughing pain in his sides racked his system. " You were gonna try to impress eyebrows with this ? ! "

He erupted into another fit of laughter, spewing out a string of slurred German and trying to catch his breath enough to make a clear sentence. "_ Mein Gott! _You...! What the hell was up with that pose ? !"

Alfred pouted at the convulsing German, wondering what was so funny. All he did was strike up his signature, and not to mention awesome Hero pose. Which was basically standing and being awesome with one hand on his hip, his thumb pointing at himself, and completing the awesomeness with a smile and a wink.

" Hey, Shut up! Where the heck is Arthur ? I thought he'd be here by now!" He complained, whining. " I even got up early just to show him how awesome I am! "

Wheezing, Gilbert staggered up to his feet, dropping back onto the couch, still breaking up with a little laughter. " You mean you actually planned this? ! Eyebrows is gonna have a good laugh once he gets back here!"

He turned to Kiku for a moment, his eyes shining with amusement. " Tell me you at least got a picture of the pose! "

The Japanese man smiled in return, holding up a camcorder in his hand. " It's all on tape. "

Gilbert grinned, giving a thumbs up to the dark haired teen. " Awesome! "

" HEY! I said where the hell is Arthur ? "

Alfred repeated his question with annoyance, both at the laughing German and his failed efforts.

" Isn't the student president supposed to get here early or somethin' ? "

Laughing fit finally over, the red eyed male leaned back into the couch cushions, examining the American thoroughly for the first time that morning. He shrugged, smirking. " Who knows? Maybe he's here, maybe he isn't. " Still smiling, the Albino glance up at Kiku. " Do you know, Kiku? "

The Japanese male shook his head slightly, also smiling. " I'm afraid I do not, Gilbert -san. "

Clenching his fist in irritation, the blue eyed male scowled at the two student council members.

" Stop messin' with me! Where's Arthur? "

" And why should we tell you, dipshit? "

Gilbert's eyes took on a challenging gleam as he stared up at the American, waiting for an answer.

" Obviously so I could show him my awesomeness! ", Alfred emphasized his point by shoving off the blue blazer he was wearing and taking on another pose while flexing his arm. " See! There's no way he won't fall in love with this! "

The red eyed male cat called at the American, fuelling his ego and earning another pose. Alfred added a grin to his posture, his smile widening when Kiku turned his camcorder back on and began to snap photos with a digital camera. It wasn't long before he started to get excited from the personal photo shoot and completely tossed his blazer onto the floor, flexing his exposed arms and not noticing the Brit that creeped up from behind him.

" Having fun, Jones? "

Arthur appeared behind the American, emerald orbs dark and not looking one bit amused. " I'd appreciate it if you don't block the doorway with that fat arse of yours. "

Dropping his pose, Alfred turned to pout at the smaller male. " I'm not fat! "

Ignoring him, the sandy blond shoved the taller male out of the entrance, forcing his way into the room. He spared a single glance of dissaproval at the American. " If you don't want me insulting you, then...do whatever you were doing elsewhere."

Turning his focus back forward, the Brit made his way farther into the room, towards his desk, dropping a black binder onto the wooden surface and sighing. Kiku took the moment to look up from his camera screen and smile at the student president. " How did your meeting with Mr. Roma go? "

Frowning, Arthur looked at the dark eyed male. " Bullocks. He said that Bonnefoy's been missing too much school for that bloody job of his. So we have to pull him off the council. "

" God knows how the blasted git was even voted in. " The Brit grumbled. " He could have at least done his bloody work before it piled up. "

Dropping down onto his chair, Arthur looked over a few documents over his desk.

" I'll talk to the wanker after school." He sighed again. " I have to hire a new vice-president too..."

Still pouting, Alfred stared into the room from the doorway, annoyed that he was being ignored and probably forgotten by the other room occupants. He stepped into the office, striding in front of Arthur's desk and grinning. " Are you ready to be amazed by the Hero? ! "

Arthur put down his papers, glancing up at the American. " Oh, you were still here, Jones? "

Instead of feeling dejected that the Brit either did, or was acting, like he really forgot him, Alfred brightened his smile and winked. " Of course! I gotta make sure you get your shot of awesome today ! ! "

Face going blank, the emerald eyed male stared at other male with no expression before his face twisted mockingly. " Was that crummy line supposed to sweep me off my feet, Jones? Because if that appalling grammar and pathetic pick up line is all you have then I doubt you'll accomplish much. "

" That's not all! I have this too! "

Flexing his arm, Alfred showed off his muscles again, trying to give Arthur full view of his figure. " There's no way anyone wouldn't fall in love with this awesomeness! "

Arthur mumbled something about bloody Americans before he lifted up his binder, smacking Alfred on the head with it.

" OW! What the hell ? ! ", Alfred stumbled back a little at the impact, glaring at the smirking Brit in front of him. " Why'd you do that for ? ! "

" That's for being stupid. " Arthur's gaze fell back down on his documents, his smirk dropping with it. " Now leave before I whack you again. I'm not in the mood to play with you right now."

Alfred frowned. " No way! I'm not gonna leave until you fall in love with my awesomeness! "

Rubbing away his headache, Arthur opened a drawer in his desk, his hand hovering over it as he stared at the American, asking a question. " So you really plan to go through with that? "

" Of 'course! I gotta be the awesome Hero and save you from being such an asshole! "

" Is that so? " Arthur's smirk returned as he reached into the drawer, bring out what looked like a shiny piece of metal and pointing it at Alfred's head. Gilbert hooted excitedly at the object while Kiku shook his head slightly though a smile remained. " Do you know what this is, Jones? "

Alfred gulped. " A gun? "

Arthur's smile widened. " Correction. It's a _**toy-" **_He aimed the toy to the side of the American's head, pulling the trigger. A shot of compressed air passed by the blue eyed male's cheek, making Alfred start to sweat. " -air gun. " The Brit lowered the air gun, flipping it over in his hand and examining it much too fondly for the American's comfort. " I received it from a friend of mine; one of the previous disciplinary officers before Gilbert. " He sighed. " If he hadn't used to shoot students for the tiniest infractions with a pellet gun, he'd have been an excellent officer, it's a shame the prinicpal had me pull him off...still... he left me a present before he left. "

Alfred relaxed slightly in relief before he broke out laughing. "Ha ha! So it's a toy! You had me scared there for second! For a moment there I though it was re-"

The American was cut off as Arthur fired off another shot of air, dangerously close to the other male's neck. Athur smiled. " Toys can still be dangeous, boy. Would you like me to prove it to you? "

To accent his question, Arthur raised the air gun higher so it was aiming point-blank at the American's face. His finger hovered over the trigger, making Alfred take a step back from the Brit cautiously, laughing nervously. The emerald eyed male smiled at the taller male's anxiety. " I doubt it will do you much good to have bruises on that body you're so bloody proud of. "

" Especially for a model", he added, green orbs glistening dangerously.

Backing away slowly, America sent a lopsided, fearful grin at the sandy haired blond. " Y'know, I think I have something to do right now! " He turned to the door, eying the Brit cautiously, then rushing out the room, leaving his blazer on the floor, forgotten. " See ya later! I- I'll be back! "

Leaning back into his chair, the student president spun the gun with his finger elegantly before placing it safely back into his desk drawer. He stared amused at the door. " Back, huh? " Arthur smirked. " famous last words..."

* * *

Alfred walked the halls of Hetalia academy, confused and sulking. His plan to make the Brit realize his awesomeness with his sexy physique had failed. And he was wondering why.

_I thought for sure that I'd get him with that! The jerk probably doesn't know what it looks like to be awesome!_

Continuing to brood and wander the corridor, the American didn't notice as he bumped into another student. He strode forward, not seeing the Spaniard that dropped his books and was now on teh floor. " HEY!_** Che cazzo!**_* Get your fucking ass back here! "

His sulking cut short, Alfred turned behind him, finally noticing the fallen Spaniard and the angry Italian beside him. " Watch where you're going! Stupid American bastard!"

Turning back towards the two males, the blue eyed American walked towards them, smiling and scratching the back of his head apologetically. " Heh, heh! Sorry 'bout that ! I didn't see you there! " Offering a hand to the fallen male, Alfred smiled when the Spaniard took it, smiling also. " _**De nada!***_ It's no problem!"

Gathering up his books, the tan skinned male began to walk forward, the angry Italian still glaring daggers at American. Alfred just watched them go before he recognized the one who had fallen. Reaching out he grabbed the Spaniard on the shoulder. " Hey! You're Antonio Carriedo, right? From my chemistry class! "

Antonio glance back at Alfred, tilting his head a bit in confusion before lighting up at the recognition. " Ah! You're Alfred F. Jones, right? The model? "

" Yup! That's the Hero! "

The Italian scoffed at the remark. " Hero? More like a as-"

" Ha ha! Don't be rude, Lovi! " Antonio smile brightly at the American. " Is there something you need? "

Alfred thought for a moment before answering. " Yeah! Michelle told me that you got Arthur real mad at you a few years back! And that he got you real bad! What'd he do? "

The Spaniard immediately paled, his books slipping from his grip. Lovino stepped forward defensively, glaring at the blue eyed male. " You idiot! Don- "

Before he finished the sentence, Antonio started tremble, muttering words under his breath. " M-my a-armada..."

Suddenly bursting into tears, the dark haired male turned tail and ran down the hall, screaming. " My Arrrrmaaaaddddaaaaaa! "

" Oi! Tomato bastard! Get back here! " Scooping up Antonio's books, the Italian chased after the screaming male, shooting one last glare at the American before leaving down the hall. Alfred was left standing, very much confused and alone.

" What the fuck...? "

* * *

Sighing, Arthur scanned over multiple documents on his desk as Gilbert stared up at him from the sofa. " Oi. If you have something to bloody say to me then say it you git! "

The albino grinned, consenting to the Brit's irritation. " You were being totally bad ass back there! I didn't think you still had it in you to be awesome! Still can't beat my level of awesomeness though! "

" What are you talking about ? ", Arthur let out a small smirk, feigning innocence even as he knew full well what the red eyed male meant.

" You haven't acted like that since you attached fireworks to Antonio's bike! "

The emerald eyed male focused back on his papers, though the small smile remained. " The git deserved it. He should have kept his mouth shut.. "

Gilbert laughed at the statement before continuing the conversation. " Anyways, why'd you bring the air gun Vash gave you to school? Didn't think you still had it. "

" That bloody wanker thinks we're playing a game right? " A dark aura made it's way around the sandy blond, though his emerald orbs glimmered with amusement. " And what's a game without toys to play with? "

The Albino smirked at the question. " You're evil you know that? "

Arthur only answered with a dark smile of his own.

* * *

Entering his first class of the day, Alfred was surprised to see that the sandy haired Brit had already arrived and was seated in a desk. He strutted towards the Brit with renewed confidence at the fact that the male was no longer wielding a gun - even if it was a toy- and grinned. " Arthur! "

The named teen glanced up at the American, obviously not sharing his enthusiasm. He waited until the blue eyed male neared before he took a chance to thrust a piece of blue fabric into Alfred's face.

" Take your sodding jacket with you the next time you leave. It's not my bloody responsibility to clean up after a brat like you! "

Recognizing the blazer that he had accidentally left behind in the student council room, Alfred's grin widened. " Thanks Arthur! " He winked. " But y'know what? You could keep it to remember the Hero by whenever you're lonely! "

A nerve, just on the verge of breaking, bulged on the emerald eyed male's forehead. It looked as if Arthur would explode at any moment. But he didn't. And the scary thing was, he smiled. " Is that so? Then I'll take it " The smile morphed into a smirk. " I'm sure if I sell on the internet some daft fool in desperate need of a wank will buy it for a fair price. "

Arthur's smirk widened slightly as Alfred's face paled. Sure the American loved his fans but the idea of some stranger jerking off to something he actually wore kind of grossed him out. Snatching his jacket away hastily from the Brit's hold, he resumed grinning. " Umm. Maybe I might need it back after all! It might get cold outside later! "

At the very moment Alfred finished that sentence, Mr. Karpusi shuffled in, signaling the start of class and ushering everyone to their seats. Arthur was reveling in his silent victory as Alfred made his way to his desk, stuffing his jacket inside his bag.

" Mornin' Michelle! "

Sliding into his seat, Alfred greeted the pigtailed girl beside him with a smile. The girl nodded in acknowledgment before leaning closer to the American. " So did you do anything to eyebrows yet?

Frowning, Alfred nodded. " Yeah! I was showing how awesome I was but he was still an ass hole! He pointed an air gun at me! "

" Oh, he still has that? ", Michelle asked. " The disciplinary officer from the beginning of the year have it to him. Apparently Arthur impressed him enough with how good he could aim a gun that he gave him one as a gift. "

" The disciplinary officer? You mean Gilbert? " The American tilted his head slight, in thought. " How'd someone who throws water balloons at people become part of the student council?"

Michelle opened her history textbook, though it seemed meaningless since the teacher already seemed to have fallen asleep in his desk before answering. " He was the third choice. The first one was Vash Zwingli, but he kept shooting people with a pellet gun for any little thing. Arthur hired Ludwig, Gilbert's brother next but some people became too scared to come to school because of him so he had to pull him off. Gilbert was the next choice but it probably helped that they've know each other since they were kids. " She looked up from her book. " You know you can still back out of this before you get a feeling of Arthur's wrath."

" What' cha mean? "

She answered. " Trying to make him fall in love with you. I don't think it'll work. He's too much of a grouch"

Alfred grinned. " No way! There's no one who wouldn't fall in love with the hero! "

Michelle sighed before smiling slightly at the American's enthusiasm. " I'm just warning you. If you want to get out of it just don't do anything. " She flipped a page in her textbook. " Arthur's a strategist. If you use a chess game as an example he's probably be th e person who controls the black pieces while you're the one who controls white. He won't make a move until the other player moves first. That way anything he does is justified. " Closing the book, she glanced at the Spaniard on the other side of the room. " Do you want to know what he did to Antonio? "

Alfred stole a look at the dark haired male, remembering the boy's reaction when he asked him what Arthur did. He nodded. " Yeah. I asked him earlier, but he started screaming something about an armada."

" That was his bike. ", Michelle sent a sympathetic look at the oblivious Spaniard. " He used to call it his armada. " She returned his gaze back at the American. " When he pissed eyebrows's off, Arthur went and attached fireworks he got from his friend from Hong Kong on Antonio's wheels. He set it up so they'd light up once he hit a certain speed. "

" So they just exploded? "

" They exploded while he was going _**downhill.**_ With Arthur waiting at the bottom with a _**baseball bat.**_ The moment Antonio reached the bottom he swung the bat on his wheels and made the guy go flying! I'm surprised he still isn't traumatized! The rubber on his wheels were melted and the entire bike was scorched! He ended up with a few bruises, but he doesn't mess with Arthur anymore. This is why you shouldn't either"

" Nuh uh! I'm the Hero! No way am I going to give up just 'cause he knows how to use fireworks! "

" I 'm just warning you, Alfred! "

" Don't worry I can take care of myself! "

" Can you really, Jones? "

Interrupting the conversation, Arthur stepped in, glaring at Michelle. " Don't go bloody telling people things aren't even your business. "

The pigtailed girl just rolled her eyes in response. " Sure thing, Eyebrows. " He turned to Alfred's direction. " I need you to come to the student council room during lunch, _**Matthew. "**_

Alfred tilted his head confused. " I'm not -"

" I'm talking to the person in the desk in front of you, Jones. Don't be so bloody conceited to assume everything is about you. " The Brit walked passed the American's desk to another blond that had been unnoticed previously. Matthew looked nervous that that the attention was on him. " E-eh? Me? Not Alfred? "

Arthur sighed. " Yes, you boy. I don't have any business with that wanker you call a brother. "

" Why? "

" Student council business." He turned to Michelle after answering. " And I need you to deliver all the completed budgets back to their clubs. "

" Yessir Mr. Eyebrows "

Arthur scowled at the nickname, flicking the girl on the forehead to reprimand her. " Don't call me eyebrows! " He turned to the American, who perked up expectantly. " And you. Next time mind your own business instead of asking bloody questions. And study rather than spend the entire class gossiping."

The Brit strode out of the class, leaving Alfred to glance at the clock. Class had really ended. He turned to his brother with a pout. " Why would he want to talk to _**you**_ ? "

* * *

A/N:

_**Che cazzo!**_* - you dick

_**De nada***_ - don't worry

**Updates late 'cause I was sick. But...well, third chapter's finally out! You guys finally know what happened to Antonio! Poor guy, eh. I was agonizing over a plot for this fic and so if things go as planned rating will go up and it might get a little angsty 'cause I love torturing Arthur. The poll's still up, by the way. I'm closing it next chapter, so you guys and gals better vote for your preferred pairing! I decided that if France wins, Prussia will be paired up with Switzerland. But, so far it's pretty even, so who knows who's gonna win. Well, Review and vote!**


	4. Nothing gay about a bromance

In any normal situation, Matthew Williams would have found the sound of the lunch bell to be a normal occurrence. Just the average everyday thing. But, for someone who was not used to the attention, an American glaring dangerously at him from behind was not a normal occurrence. And thus , the sound of the lunch bell ringing was nothing short of angels singing. Hell, at that moment even pigs squealing would have sound beautiful.

" Al...could you stop glaring at me, eh? "

Matthew stood up from his desk, throwing nervous glances at his brother while at the same time trying to stuff his books into his bag and make a quick get away to the door. It was difficult though with eyes constantly burning into him, as if examining his every move.

" I'm not staring at you. I was paying attention to the class. Not my fault you sit in front of me. "

Not arguing against the statement, even though it was a blatant lie seeing how the entire class was an individual study block, the violet eyed teen quickly fastened his bag, threw it over his shoulder and headed towards the exit in a single fluid movement.

" Hey, Mattie! You're gonna see Arthur, right? I'm comin' too! "

Alfred shot up from his own desk, taking his bag and begun to follow his younger brother out the door. He was cut short by a barrage of fans at the door, blocking his path while at the same time allowing Matthew to slip away, untouched.

" Alfred! Eat lunch with us today! "

The American glanced down at the girl at the forefront of the crowd, alternating his gaze between his brother and the fans with a look of impatience. He quickly masked the look with a smile. " Sorry, guys! But I'm busy, maybe next time, alright? " Alfred made another attempt to push through the crowd, but the barrier of bodies at the doorway held strong. The fans procured a dozen identical pouty faces, creeping out the blue eyed male and completely intent on keeping the American with them. " C'mon Alfred! Just a little while! " Grabbing his arm, a fan dragged him towards the cafeteria, only allowing him a single second to glance at the direction his brother left at. He sighed at seeing a crowded hallway, empty of the single person he was searching for.

* * *

Matthew let out a breath of relief as he rushed up the stairs towards the student council office. For once in his life, he was grateful for the constant barrage of fans that surrounded his brother, the blonde didn't think he'd have the strength to deal with the American, not when the anxiety of being called by the student council president was beating down on him. The president rarely called anyone in except for important matters or punishments. And the terrifying rage of Arthur Kirkland was very well known around the school. Especially the incident involving Antonio Carriedo. And Matthew _**did not**_ want to feel the brunt of that rage.

Reaching the entrance into the student council room, Matthew swallowed as he turned the knob, peeking in, just a smidge. A blast of cold air hit his face as he felt an atmosphere of strained silence radiate from the opening. He swallowed again, wondering if it really might have been better if he brought Alfred in with him.

Gilbert stared at the cards in his hand with heated concentration, biting his lip as he governed his next move. An unusual aura of seriousness surrounded him, radiating coldly across the room.

" Do you...have any kings? "

Kiku looked down at his own cards, wearing that unreadable smile of his. He shook his head slightly, still smiling. " Go fish...my turn... " The Japanese teen peeked up at the albino, causing him to sweat under the gaze. " Do you have any eights? "

Twitching, Gilbert relinquished three cards from his hand, passing them over to the teen in front of him. Kiku smirked, placing the cards into a compact pile beside him, along with four other piles. He was about to continue on with the game when Gilbert groaned, slapping down the rest of his cards in front of him, his aura of concentration evaporating.

" Damn it, Kiku! How come you always beat me at this game? " He mumbled to himself, quietly, though his voice was clearly heard, seeing how the Albino's definition of quiet was closer to a shout than a whisper. " This is so unawesome..."

Deeming the game over, Kiku collected the cards on the floor before responding, the polite smile still plastered on his face. " I suppose I'm good at playing child's games."

" Gah! Don't call it a child's game! It makes me feel even more unawesome that I lost! " Gilbert threw his hands up, signalling his defeat. He stretched his feet from his spot on the floor, in front of the couch, leaning his head back onto the couch and resting it on a large looking lump on the sofa. He turned his head slightly, spotting the visitor at the door.

" Oi, Kiku! Looks like a birdie flew in! "

The Japanese male followed Gilbert's line of sight, recognizing the nervous blond at the door. He stood up gracefully, striding to meet with the purple eyed male with his hand stretched out for a hand shake, one which was politely returned. " You are Matthew Williams - san, correct? " Matthew nodded albeit nervously. " That's right, eh... Mr. Kirkland called me here? "

Before Kiku had the chance to answer, Gilbert burst out laughing, the sound of 'kesese' reverberating around the room. " Mr. Kirkland ? ! pffft! That's just weird, birdie! Call him, Arthur! Or eyebrows! He hates it when people call him Kirkland! Right? ! " The Albino banged his head repeatedly on the lump on the sofa. " Hey! Right? Right ? "

" Bloody Hell, Gilbert! If you don't stop that I'm going to take that blasted head of yours and split in half! !"

Arthur shot out from under a blanker on the couch, revealing himself to be the source of the lump. There slight bags under his eyes, exposing the fact that he had just woken up. His hair stuck out of head in a messier fashion than usual, making the Albino laugh.

" Kesesese~ You're head looks like a bird's nest! It's awesome! "

The annoying laugh coupled with the comment was enough to make the already irate Brit snap. Lunging at the German, his hands aimed for the Albino's throat, eyes glowing with hostility. He landed on top of the other male, his hands reaching their target, though the dimwitted grin remained plastered on the red eyed male's face. " Kesesese~ Why so mad, eyebrows? Those awesome brows of yours are totally merging right now! "

" Fuck you, Gilbert! " Arthur tightened his grip on the white haired male's throat, forcing Gilbert to take action in his defence.

" Whooo! You askin' for a fight with the awesome me ? ! " Gilbert grabbed the Brit by the wrists, grinning up at the sandy haired male before twisting their positions until he was on top. " You can't take the awe-"

The Albino didn't get the chance to finish his statement as Arthur kneed him in the gut, a triumphant smirk of his own forming on his lips. " What was that, git? Couldn't bloody hear you. "

Groaning at the hit, Gilbert recovered quickly moving in for another hit. It wasn't long before the two were rolling on the floor, each fighting for dominance with their hand and faces moving too close for comfort towards certain areas of each other's bodies.

" E-ehh! Should we stop them?"

Matthew stood nervously at the door, watching the transpiring mayhem on the floor. He was also slightly disturbed that the polite smile plastered onto Kiku's face didn't disappear even as the two teens on the floor reached for the others throats. " Ah. I suppose you are right. "

Striding towards one of the tables, the Japanese teen pick up a pile of papers and proceeded to roll it into a tube. After concluding that the fight wasn't going to die down, he brought the roll down onto the table with a hard smack and smiled at the fighting males. " Arthur - san, Gibert- san. We have a guest. "

The two male's looked up, shocked at the loud noise, and even more fearful of the dark aura surrounding the smiling teen. Arthur was the first to recover, staggering up and trying to smooth both his clothing and hair. " Oh...uh...sorry, Kiku. " He turned to the blond male by the entrance. " And Matthew. "

" I-It's alright, eh. "

" Then well..." The Brit scratched at the back of his head, embarrassed. " Why don't you have a seat? " Arthur gestured towards the sofa, one of which was missing a cushion and had slid about two inches away from its original position. Despite that, and not to be rude, Matthew took one of the remaining cushions, quietly awaiting his fate. " You have my apologies. It was not my intention for you to see this. " The green eyed male shot a look of accusation at the albino, who threw his hands up in defence. " Totally wasn't the awesome me's fault! He started it, right birdie? "

Matthew began to stutter a bit from being addressed suddenly, trying to think of what to say. " E-eh? Me? " Thankfully for him, Arthur intervened. " You don't have to answer that tosser. He just can't admit it's his fault. "

" That's 'cause it's not! I'm not the one who went all ape shit and attacked me! "

Arthur glared darkly at the statement. " I did not go ' ape shit '. And any person in their sane mind would be mad if they were woken up by someone banging their arse with their heads.

Despite the situation, Gilbert giggled. " Yeah, I was totally banging your ass. "

" ...Fuck you, Gilbert. "

The Albino's giggle turned into a full on laugh. " Kesesese! No way, I'd totally be the one fucking you! "

Arthur's last thread of patience snapped as he smacked Gilbert on the upside of his face. Hard.

" Fuck! That hurt! " The red haired teen rubbed at his chin, doing strange and impossible movements with his face in attempt to see if his chin was bruised. Arthur sighed at the Albino's stupidity, turning away from the other male. " Good. Now belt up, you prat. " He faced the seated blond, examining him. " Matthew Williams."

The addressed male shot to attention. " Yessir, eh! "

Surprised a bit at the sudden formality, the Briton chuckled. " My name isn't 'sir'. I'd much prefer it if you called me Arthur. "

" Told you not to be formal! "

Gilbert let in one last outburst, silencing when Arthur sent him his ' no nonsense' look. The emerald eyed male focused back onto Matthew. " Well, Matthew. The reason why I called you in here is because...I'd like to request that you become the new student council vice president. "

* * *

Alfred stuffed his face with cheeseburgers, sending impatient glances at the clock as the fans at the table jittered away nonsensically, their words not falling through to the American. They were probably chattering out compliments about how awesome he was anyways. Nothing he hadn't heard before. The fans were happy enough with just him being there and looking good.

Casting one last glance at the clock, Alfred stood up, pasting a professional smile on his face, though the side of his lips twitched slightly in annoyance. " Hey, guys! I'm gonna have to go now! "

" Noooo! Just a few more minutes! " The fans looked at the blue eyed male sadly, a look that Alfred responded with an apologetic face. " Sorry, guys! But, no can do! It's important! " Plastering one last smile to quell the fans strange needs, he turned heel out the door, quickly, just in case they came up with another idea to keep him there.

Once he was a safe distance out of the cafeteria, Alfred wiped his brow in relief, continuing his way towards the student council room. It was a short run and upon arriving, Alfred burst open the door, greeting all four members inside. " HEY YOU GUYS! Hero's here!"

Taking a look at the situation inside the room, the American's jaw dropped, his hand still frozen onto the door knob. " ...what the fuck is goin' on here? "

* * *

" E-eh? " Matthew leaned forward from his seat, disbelieving of what he had just heard. " Vice president? Me? N-not Alfred? " Despite the nervous look he was sporting, in truth, Matthew was very happy of the request. For the entirety of life, the blond had always been the twin with the less redeemable features. Everything good that happened, had always happened to Alfred.

" Of course I mean you! " The Briton rolled his eyes, scoffing, his voice carrying a small irritated tone. " If I ever recruited your blasted prat of a brother onto the student council, this entire school would fall to hell! " Arthur walked over to his desk, picking up a clipboard and reading from it. " Matthew Williams. Part of Hetalia Academy's first aid committee. Referred to by the school doctor as hardworking and honest and thought by peers to be kind, though soft spoken. Top of most his classes and third in his entire grade. " Stealing a glance at the currently silent male, Arthur chuckled at the slight pink colour dusting his cheeks, probably from not being used to being complimented so much. After a moment, Matthew garnered the courage to speak up.

" B-but...wouldn't it be better to recruit the ones who spotted first and second in the grade?"

Placing the clipboard back onto the desk, Arthur shook his head. " Those places are held by me and Kiku, so as third you're the best choice. The current vice -president is placed fourth so hopefully you'll do a much better job than him " The Brit's face seemed to darken at the mention of the current vice, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. Sighing, he turned back to the seated male. " So, what's your answer? Yes? No? "

There was a moment of stuttering before Matthew was able to form a complete answer. " Y-yes! I'll do it, eh!"

Arthur smiled, nodding his head in satisfaction. " Good. Then I'll have the forms ready for you to sign tomorrow. I suppose I should bring in Francis as well to get you started where he left off. Do you have any questions? "

Matthew shook his head, inwardly smiling at the fact that he had just been chosen as new vice president. " None, eh."

" Alright then. Even if it's not official yet, I suppose I should welcome you as a new member of the student council. "

For the first time since entering the room, Matthew smiled, surprising everyone in the room at how warm it was. Gilbert stepped forward, grabbing the blond by the chin and moving his face side to side, examining him. " Hmm...so you're the new vice, huh? " He grinned, winking at the other male. " Awesome! Welcome to the council, birdie! "

Letting go of the purple eyed male, Gilbert turned towards the student president, clasping him on the shoulder. " I totally call dibs on this guy. "

Arthur just rolled his eyes in response. " Fine. Just don't cause any trouble. "

" Sure, boss! "

Watching the exchange between the two males, and not hearing the conversation, Matthew brought a question towards them, a show of unusual courage from the quiet male. " Umm. Are you two...? "

Both Arthur and Gilbert froze in their current positions, turning their attention to the seated male. " What? " The question was said in unison by the two males, both of which were confused to what the blond just asked. Matthew seemed to regret his question greatly, as he began to stutter, attempting to take back his words. " Eh! I'm sorry! I was mistaken! J-just ig-"

Gilbert interrupted with an amused grin, cutting off any of Matthew's attempts at taking his words back. " Wait! Did you just think that me and eyebrows were...? "

The blond turned red, answering the Albino's question. Arthur, finally getting it frowned, pushing the red eyed male's hand off his shoulder and deadpanning. " Bloody hell, no. " Gilbert feigned hurt at the denial, though the false look was immediately replaced with a grin. " Aww, geez Arthur! No need to act like I got germies! I know you totally love the awesome me! " He directed his focus back to the violet eyed male, patting his chest proudly and gesturing to both Arthur and Kiku. " What we got here is what one would call an awesome BROMANCE! " He brought his finger in front of him in a matter of fact way, a false expression of seriousness on his face. " Not to be mistaken with a romance. "

Matthew seemed to look confused at the explanation, while Arthur sighed, shaking his head and Kiku looked amused. " Bloody hell, Gilbert. I'd appreciate it if you don't use blasted American terms to describe these things. "

Gilbert laughed in response. " Too late! "

" Excuse me, eh...but what's a bromance?"

Arthur immediately responded with a dictionary definition. " It's a close relationship between two males that is not remotely intimate. "

" Oh, I see..."

Being the hands on person he was, Gilbert felt the need to demonstrate through example. " It means I could do _**this**_! " Grabbing the waistband of Arthur's pants, the Albino grinned as he pulled it down to the Brit's ankles, revealing pink underwear with fairy print, and causing him to swear. " And no one's gonna see it as totally faggy! " Arthur yelled, his expression turning into one of pure rage.

" Fuck! Gilbert! I'm going to bloody castrate you! "

Making an attempt to strangle the laughing German, Arthur stumbled on his own trousers, tripping over them and falling into Matthews lap. The sunny blond whimpered at the turn of events.

" M-Maple! "

" Shit! "

Swearing, Arthur attempted to recover any dignity he had left by standing back up. But, of course, at that moment, God saw fit to take away his remaining pride.

" Hey you guys! Hero's here! "

Alfred swung the door open, entering the room. Arthur's eyes shot towards the door, right at the blue eyed American that entered. " Bloody fuck, no..."

Jaw dropping at the sight, the blue eyed male could only stare at the situation inside with wide eyes. " ...what the fuck is going on here?"

* * *

" Shit! Jones! What the bloody fuck are you doing here ? ! "

Alfred strode into the room, pouting, and throwing dark looks at his brother. " I came to see why'd you call Mattie here. But fuck, if you were gonna give him a lap dance then I want one too! "

Doubling back in indignation, Arthur glowered at the blue eyed male darkly. An amazing feat considering his pants were down to his ankles. " I'm not giving him a bloody lap dance! "

" You're in your underwear, on his lap. It looks like your giving him a lap dance to me! " Alfred strode over to the sofa, yanking Arthur towards him, sans trousers. " Damn it Mattie! I told you this guy is mine! "

" No, you didn't, eh! And this is an accident, nothing happened! " Despite being flustered, Matthew did his best to defend himself from his brother. " He just tripped! "

The American just rolled his eyes at his sibling not noticing the increasing darkness around the smaller male in his hold. " Oh so he just fell on your lap without his pants on? Fat chance! "

" He did! "

" Yeah, ri-"

" Kindly let go of me before I bloody castrate you, Jones! "

Alfred glanced down at the male in his arms, forgotten in his sibling argument. The sandy blond's left eye was twitching in irritation and he looked like he was just a short thread away from bursting. Of course, Alfred, not seeing this, grinned. " No way! You look great right there, Arthur!" He tightened his grip on the teen pressing the Brit's face against his chest. " And anyways you could totally feel my awesome abs! "

At that moment the little patience that Arthur had completely disappeared. Along with any self-restraint. In a single fluid movement he karate chopped the American on the ribs, forcing his release. As Alfred stumbled back, Arthur continued his assault, lifting his foot and bringing it down fast. Right where it hurt. The American could have sworn he felt his children dying at that moment as he groaned loudly, instinctively putting his hands between his legs.

" GUH! W-what w-was that for ? ! "

Alfred's voice had risen an entire octave higher, his face colouring a strange shade of purple. Arthur just smirked in satisfaction at the American's pain. " I told you to let go. "

Taking advantage of the situation with everyone either smiling amused or in shock, Arthur grabbed his pants from his ankles, yanking them back up. He turned to the Albino, a look of death on his face. Thankfully, Gilbert was not as oblivious and the American, and was able to spot death as it came.

" Y'know, I think I'm gonna go and see if Luddie is busy! "

Sprinting towards the exit, Gilbert let out a manly whimper as Arthur clasped his shoulder, forcing the red eyed male to turn towards him and face the grim reaper in the flesh.

" Giiiillllbeeerrrttt..."

The fact that they were friends didn't stop the Albino from feeling absolute terror of his British counterpart at that moment. Hostility was pouring off the Brit in loads, his aura one that could almost be clearly seen. It was moments like these that made him actually regret that he was way too awesome for some people to understand. Eyes darting around the room, a feeling of betrayal shot through his heart as his eyes fell on Kiku, who just shrugged the Albino off and looked away. His crimson orbs fell on the American next, who was only half recovered from the low blow. Seizing the chance, the albino shoved Arthur right into the American, causing both of them to stumble back onto the floor on top of each other.

" Kesesese! Sorry, but I really gotta see Luddie! Family is important! "

Escaping from the room, Gilbert disappeared down the hallway, postponing the Briton's wrath.

* * *

" Damn it, Arthur! That really freakin' hurt! "

Alfred attempted to stand, causing the Brit to fall off his chest and grumble at his indignation.

" It ain't awesome to kick someone there! "

" Belt up and stop whining like a bloody woman you blasted prat! "

Staggering upwards, Arthur brushed himself off, dusting away the dirt that made its way on his vest. He started to make his way towards his desk, trying to get to the only sense of stability in the room. But, of course Alfred wouldn't let him.

" Hey, take that back! I'm not a girl! " The American grabbed the back of Arthur's shirt, pulling him back down onto the floor. He tugged at the Brit's underwear sharply, revealing the pinkness to the room. " At least I don't wear underwear with fairies on it! What kind of man wears underwear with fairies on them? "

" Sod off, you wanker! I happen to like bloody fairies! Now let go unless you want me kick you again! "

" But they're pink! That's totally a girl colour! "

" It was the only colour these came in! Let go! "

Alfred ignored the order, giving another pull at the Brit's underwear and unintentionally giving the a mighty painful wedgie. " But, pink? Pink? If I knew you were so girlie I'd have treated you more like a girl when I was trying to woo you this morning! " He paused, glancing at Arthur, a bit perturbed that the smaller male was silent. " Hey, why are you so red? "

Arthur's cheeks were indeed tinged red. Most likely from the painful wedgie the American was giving him.

" YOU...BLOODY GIT! "

Elbowing the blue eyed male, the sandy blond propelled himself upward, glowering at the other male with absolute lividness. He tucked his underwear back into his trousers, his face darkening with every passing second. But, unfortunately, Alfred could not see the danger of his situation.

" Geez, Arthur. Why'd ya look so mad? "

The emerald eyed male twitched, the last of his sanity and patience disappearing. It took all he had to stop himself from beating the American to death right then and there. Taking a deep breath he sent one last glare at the other male before heading towards the exit, his face a picture of utter rage.

" Jones. Detention. Here. One hour, after school. "

With that, not even bothering to take a backward glance into the room, Arthur slammed the door behind him, leaving behind a confused American, an equally shocked Matthew and an amused Kiku behind.

Alfred stared at the door in genuine befuddlement. " Hey, what'd I do? "

* * *

**a/n: Soooo...the winner for the poll was the awesome Prussia! Sorry Franada fans but it looks like Canada's gonna be having a taste of awesomeness. 23 people voted, 56% for Prussia(13 Votes) and 43% for France (10 Votes) Pretty close, eh? It was a tie for like three days and that made me go all aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh**

**Well here's a list of some of the pairing that will probably show up in the story**

**UK/US/UK - Main Prussia/Canada Spain/ Romano Greece/ Japan France/Seychelles Russia/China Sweden/Finland Denmark/Norway**

**Lithuania/ Poland Germany/ Italy Austria/ Hungary**

**Well, these are the pairings. Some of them might only appear once or twice then disappear. And others might pop up too. Some of them might be implied too or won't appear 'till the middle of the story. Plot isn't all that solid yet. Also there might be some one-sidedness pairs in the beginning like France - U.K and other pairings. Well, uhhh...France is definitely gonna appear next chapter. Bye! **

**Hetalia does not belong to me!**


	5. Messing with the president brings pain

Alfred strode out of the student council office, hands stuffed into his pockets with a pout on his face. The last few minutes had left him in a sour mood and the fact that the Briton was no where to be found didn't do much to help.

_I don't get it! What'd the hell I do?_

Making his way down the hall with ten minutes of lunch left to spare, the American trudged down the corridor brooding about the last few events. The moment Arthur had slammed the door in his face he had turned to both his brother and Kiku hoping for answers. But, when he asked, Matthew had been just as shocked as he was, maybe even more so, and the Japanese teen only replied to his questions with a smile and shake of his head while pulling out his playstation portable and turning it on.

Ignoring the glances he garnered from numerous females in the crowded hall, Alfred continued on his way, forcing the occasional smile on his face just to keep them satisfied. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the shadow following him from behind. It was only when he arrived at the end of the hall, groaning his thoughts out loud, did it make itself known.

" Argh! I don't get that guy! How do I make him fall in love with me ? "

Taking out his frustration on his hair by ruffling it violently and giving himself a ' just got out of bed' kind of look, Alfred caught sight of a movement making itself towards him from behind. A girl with brown hair and green eyes holding a notepad and pen cut through the crowd and in front of the blue eyed male. The American smiled instinctively in front of her presence.

" Hey. Can I help ya ? "

A slight, unidentified flash made its way into the girl's eyes only for an instant as she poised her pen onto her note pad, staring right at Alfred's face and grinning. Something about the smile made the American cringe a bit, forcing him put a little more effort into his smile. The girl just continued grinning for a moment before actually speaking to answer the male's question.

" Yes! You can! "

Straightening her posture to take on a professional stance, the girl introduced herself, the creepy grin on her face morphing into one slightly more sane.

" I'm Elizabeta Héderváry

" I'm in your history class. I didn't get the chance to introduce myself before but I'm the president of the newspaper club! "

Disturbed a little more than slightly at the girl's sudden change, Alfred took a small step back, the professional smile on his face not wavering.

" Yeah? So, what'd ya need? "

The grin that was previously on Elizabeta's face reappeared as she took a step forward, beginning her questions. " Your confession to Arthur yesterday is the main gossip of the school right now! Do you plan on going through with it and making him fall in love with you ? "

Alfred paused at the question, taken at the back at the Hungarian's directness. After a moment he answered, grinning confidently.

" Of course! I'm gonna make him fall in love with my awesomeness! " He gave the girl a small pose to accent his statement. Strangely though, Elizabeta seemed more excited at the thought of Arthur falling in love with Alfred rather than at the actual pose. She continued on with her questions.

" Can I ask you how you're going to accomplish that? Arthur's well known for being stubborn! I doubt that he'll make it easy for you to get him to fall in love with you! "

" Ha, ha! " Alfred laughed boisterously at the Hungarian, reassuring her. " No problem! There's no way he won't fall in love with me! "

Elizabeta frowned at this, her pen dropping slightly in her hand. She tilted her head a bit, staring at the American with a scrutinizing gaze. " But didn't you just ask yourself how you were going to get him to fall in love with you? "

Dropping his pose, Alfred chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. " Eh he he...you heard that? "

The green eyed girl grinned in reply, proudly puffing up her chest. " Of course! I've been following you since you left the student council room! " She pointed her pen at the American, bending down closer to him as if she were about to share a secret. " You just met him yesterday, right ? So, all you have to do is spend a little time getting to know each other! " Straightening her posture, Elizabeta wiped a drop of drool from her mouth, her eyes taking on a manic gleam. " You should get locked in a room together! I'm sure that that you will...hee, hee...get to know each other really well! " The girl reached into her pocket, procuring a stack of neatly folded paper and excitedly handing them over to Alfred.

"This is Arthur's schedule for this semester! I wrote a list of a lot of places he likes to hang out during his free time! And there is some personal things in there too! "

Glancing down at the sheets of paper, Alfred raised his eyebrow, both somewhat grateful and crept out by the girl. " How'd you find out what kind of shampoo he uses? "

Elizabeta just widened her smile at the question, giggling softly. " Don't underestimate the newspaper club...we have connections. "

* * *

Arthur sat in an empty classroom, his head leaning against one wall as he stared out the open window, the slight chill of the October air whipping at his face. He sighed quietly as he indulged himself in the fresh air before sliding his cell phone out of his pocket and flipping it open. His fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment until he finally pressed a button, the phone immediately jumping into speed dial and the caller ID of ' Frog' blinking onto the small screen. Placing it against his ear, he awaited an answer.

" _Oui~ C'est Francis Bonnefois~ "_

A male voice, very much French, appeared on the line, causing the Brit to scowl slightly in annoyance. Though his annoyance didn't stop him from greeting the French man. " Oi. Francis. It's me. "

_" Hm. Monsieur sourcil? Comment ca va? ( Mr. eyebrows? How are you? ) "_

Arthur's scowl deepened at the use of French. " Speak English, Frog! This is bloody America! "

A chuckle made it's way through the line followed by a reply. " But you understand me, _oui?_ I will ask again. _Comment ca va, Monsieur sourcils?_

Face twisting in displeasure, the sandy blond answered. " Tch. I'm fine, Frog! And stop calling me eyebrows! Now, can we get on with this conversation so I don't have to hear that blasted voice of yours? "

" My voice is very pleasant, _merci_. It is a shame you cannot appreciate it. So, why are you calling? "

" You're fired. "

" Hm? "

" It's the middle of bloody October and you've only been to the council meetings twice. Principal say that you're off the council. " The emerald eyed male scoffed. " Miss as much days as you did last year and you'll have to repeat another year. You already look like an idiot for being a year older than everyone else in our grade. I'm already ashamed that we're in the same grade! "

" _Tu es tres cruel, Arthur." ( You are very cruel Arthur.) _He paused_. " Est -ce que tu as trouve un remplacement? ( Did you find a replacement?) "_

Arthur answered, grinning and leaning his head closer to the receiver. " Damned if I didn't! It's Matthew Williams. You remember him? The kid with the blond hair, purple eyes and glasses? "

_" Oui. Je souviens. ( Yes. I remember.)" _

" Yeah. Bit quiet for my liking but, so far he's better than you." Smoothing back his hair, the sandy blond stood up, balancing the phone between his shoulder and his head and allowing himself the freedom to brush himself off. " I have to go. I'll meet you at your work to give you today's homework, but I'll be late. "

" Hmm? _Pourquoi? _"

Striding over to the open window, the green eyed male slid it close with a grumble. " An idiot American just transferred. I gave him detention. "

" Detention? "

" Yeah, one hour. Tch. The arrogant prat really needs to learn how to shut his bloody mouth. " Arthur glanced at the clock, his irritation rising at the fact that there were only two minutes left in the lunch period. He sighed. " Look. I'll see you in a few hours. I need to look for Gilbert now, he ran away earlier after he annoyed me. He'll ditch again if I don't find him soon. "

There was a murmur of agreement from the other line as both males prepared to hang up. Francis was the last to speak, his voice rising in slight amusement. " Have fun. "

* * *

His eyes still glued to the documents he was given, Alfred shuffled into his classroom, automatically taking a seat in the back, away from the teacher's line of sight. The moment the American sat down, Michelle peeked over his shoulder, taking a glance at what he was reading.

" Eyebrow's schedule? How did you get that? "

Not bothering to look up at his questioner, Alfred answered. " This girl...Liz, or something. President of the newspaper club, I think. Just gave it to me. "

Raising an eyebrow, the twin pigtailed, replied again, still questioning. " Elizabeta?"

" Yeah, that's probably it. " After a moment of silence, the blue eyed male finally looked at his peer, a frown stuck on his face. " Does everyone on the student council have free classes before and after lunch? "

" No. Just Arthur, Kiku and Gilbert. Everyone has at least one free class to do council work but me and Francis have them during the last class. The principal makes sure council members have their free time close to the end of the day or around lunch so we have more than just an hour to finish things."

Alfred sulked at the answer, his gaze falling back on the papers on his hand. " But that ain't fair! If he runs away before lunch, I won't get the chance to make my moves on him! ", the American grumbled, slapping the papers on his desk and fidgeting in his chair just to show his annoyance. " What a pain! Why can't he hurry up and fall in love with me? I don't wanna miss lunch for this! "

Leaning forward on his desk, stretching and scattering the papers on the hard surface, the blue eyed male glance up at the familiar blond in from of him. Michelle strode back to her desk, sighing at the American's childishness.

" Psst. Hey, Mattie! ", Alfred whispered in front of him, jabbing a finger at the other male's back, causing the teen to wince and glance back at his brother.

" What is it, eh? " Matthew spoke back softly at the American, careful not to garner attention from the teacher who had already begun the lecture. Alfred just lolled his head to the side onto his shoulder carelessly while staring at the other male, not at all worried of the consequences that they might face if the teacher caught them talking during class. He seemed to almost enjoy watching his brother squirm as Matthew spared glances between him and the teacher.

Allowing the silence to drag on as long as possible, Alfred only answered the other male's question once an entire minute had passed. " You're on the student council now, right? "

Watching in amusement as Matthew's brows furrowed in slight irritation. " Starting today,yes. "

He paused for a moment casting another look at the teacher, who, at the moment was focused on writing notes on the board, before turning back to his brother. " Al...Could you leave me alone now, eh? I don't want to get detention for not paying attention. "`

Paying no mind to his brother's worries, the blue eyed male continued on with the conversation, making sure to give the other blond a sharp jab to the back when he attempted to ignore the American.

" Sooooo..", Alfred elongated his word, his face twitching upwards slightly as Matthew's twitched down in anxiousness and annoyance. He just couldn't deny that messing with his brother was fun. Not to mention entertaining. " That means you'll be spending a whole bunch of time with Arthur and those other guys, right?"

Matthew's face scrunched up at the question as a general idea of what Alfred was implying entered his mind.

"...what do want, eh? ", the younger blond replied to the question with his own, knowing full well that his suspicions would soon be confirmed.

They were.

Breaking out into a cheerful grin, Alfred answered the question, his tone taking on a 'ain't I a genius' feel to it. " You can be my spy! "

Still alternating his attention between his brother and the teacher, Matthew frowned at the idea.

" I can't, eh! "

A pout entered the American's expression as he gazed up at the violet eyed male, turning on his deadly puppy eye stare.

" C'mon, Matttiiiie! We're brothers, right? And brothers do these things for each other!" Alfred grinned inwardly, noting the troubled look on his sibling's face with smug satisfaction. He continued on with his false pleading, allowing his eyes to grow more teary just for the hell of it. " Awww...please, Mattie? "

Matthew's troubled expression deepened as he made another attempt to deny his older brother's pleading to no avail. Alfred could easily see that the other male's resolve was wavering.

" Al, this is the first time anyone's asked me to join them, eh...I don't want to let them down...", Matthew mumbled quietly yo his brother, his voice taking on an almost desperate tone. Alfred didn't seem to be bothered by his brother's tone, probably choosing to ignore it as he gave one final push. "

" All ya gotta do is tell me stuff! Like what he likes to do and all! It'll be easy! " The American laid his head on his desk staring up at his brother with a pitiful expression, his eyes falsifying hope. " Mattie...c'mon...we're family...right?"

Too kind for his own good, Matthew bit his lip, his guilty expression giving the blue eyed male full indication that he had won. " j-just one time, though, eh... "

The golden blond cheered inwardly as he plastered on the most angelic face he could muster, smiling widely to thank the other male. " Thanks Mattie! I really love ya! "

Matthew's worrisome expression didn't leave his face at the words even as he faced forward, focusing his full attention on the teacher. Alfred, once ensuring that no one was was watching, leaned back on his chair, basking in his victory. It was just one more win for the Hero. Giving a satisfied sigh, the blue eyed male grinned widely.

After all, it was easy stuff.

* * *

Pinching his nose tiredly, Arthur groaned, leaning against the wall of what could have been the sixth classroom he had searched since lunch had ended. Glancing at his clock, the green eyed male swore, letting out a long breath of irritation.

" Fuck...did that git really run off?, the sandy blond grumbled to himself, frustrated at the fact that he had wasted precious time searching for an idiotic red eyed albino who, even after half an hour, was still no where to be found. Letting out another sigh, Arthur straightened his posture, heading back towards the door to continue his search. Hand hovering over the door knob, his hand froze as multiple foot falls could be head just outside the door, followed by a familiar, yet annoying laugh. " Kesesesese~ No way is eyebrows is still looking for me! Good thing I had the awesome idea of hanging out in your classroom, Luddie! "

Another voice entered the scene, slightly younger than the first. " _Bruder_, Are you sure it's alright for you to excuse me from class? "

" Just leave it to the Awesome me! Kesesese! Being on the council has it's plus sides! " There was a pause as the footsteps grew closer, followed by a short giggle. " Anyways, you were having drama class, right? You were just making props. Don't use the one you made on Feli, alright? " Another pause entered the conversation, the door knob turning from the outside. The emerald eyed male took a step back, giving headway to avoid the door swinging in his face.

" So, you made a whip for the play? This looks pretty awesome! Kesesese! Kinky, but it's really well ma- "

The door swung open, red eyes meeting green as all three male's froze, staring at each other. Arthur smiled, his aura sparking dangerously. " Found you, Gilbert! "

The colour drained from the albino's face, as he stepped back, attempting another escape. " Oh shi-"

* * *

" Dude. Are you crying? "

Alfred stood inside the student council room, alone except for a white haired albino lying faced down on the couch, seemingly dead except for the odd sniff that would emerge from out of the cushion.

Gilbert stole a glance at the American,waking up momentarily from his lifeless state, and showing partially wet yet not exactly tearful eyes. " I'm not crying! The Awesome me doesn't cry! "

Sitting up and reanimating himself, the red eyed male groaned, rubbing his behind. " Fuck. I just had to sit through an entire class with a sore bum. Not awesome at all. " He fidgeted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot that wouldn't agitate his painful butt. " Damn eyebrows whipped me! Tch. Why'd Luddie have make it so durable? Hurts like hell now! "

Alfred raised an eyebrow, obviously not understanding the Albino's pain. " What? Arthur whipped you? That sucks. " Turning to the door, the American made his way to the exit, giving a short signal of goodbye. " Well, since Arthur ain't here, I guess I don't have to stay for deten-"

The blue eyed male was stopped short with a firm grip on his arm, the Albino keeping a tight hold of the American with a serious expression. " Don't. When eyebrows finds out you ditched he's going to be pissed. And I'll bet everything I own that the guy can run faster mad than you can scared. "

Gazing down at the white haired German, Alfred grinned, shrugging his shoulders. " No way! That shortie ain't no match for the Hero! I bet I can beat 'im with my eyes closed! "

" Would you like to try that theory, Jones? "

Both males in the room froze as they turned their attention to the room entrance, where a very pissed, sandy blond Briton was standing.

With a whip in his hand.

Alfred was the first to react, plastering a smile on his face. " Yo! Artie! I 'm here for det-"

Before the American even had the chance to finish his sentence, Arthur strode in front of him, tapping the folded whip in his hand under the blue eyed male's chin, his face twitching maliciously.

" Call me by that blasted name again and **I will use this whip to hang you by the neck from the roof**. " He smiled darkly. " Understand? "

Nodding slowly, Alfred began to sweat, nervously backing away. Even someone as oblivious as he was could tell that the person in front of him was dangerous. " Y-yeah, sure, no problem."

" Good. "

Grinning anxiously, Alfred attempted to lighten the mood by starting a conversation. " Y'know, Gilbert was just telling me how he had to sit through and entire class with a sore ass, right? "Turning to where the Albino was last seen, the American was surprised to see that Gilbert had disappeared and was now behind the couch, cautiously staring at Arthur.

" Look, Arthur, just give the whip back to Luddie, okay? He really needs that for his drama class! It isn't awesome to just take something like that! "

Turning towards the red eyed German, Arthur frowned, deadpanning. " I already gave it back. "

" Liar! The one in your hand-"

Cutting off the German, the Brit answered, smirking. " The drama class gave me the old one. They only had to make a new one because this one getting worn. " He snapped the whip in his hand 'causing everyone else in the room to wince. " But, I seem to find this one more...flexible."

Seeing that he had accomplished his task of striking fear into everyone's hearts, the sandy blond teen strode towards his desk, falling into the cushioned office chair and stuffing the whip in one of the desk drawers. He gestured to one of the unoccupied desks, only empty because neither Michelle nor Kiku was present. "Jones. Sit there. "

Obeying out of fear for his life, Alfred sat, allowing Arthur to procure a sharpened pencil and a note book. The Brit threw the notebook at the American, striding over to him and waving the pencil in his face. " This pencil is for writing. If you use it for anything else, it will be for your bloody face. " Dropping the writing utensil in front of the blue eyed male, Arthur made his way back to his desk, stating the instructions along the way. " For the next hour you will write down the sentence ' ain't is not a word'. If I find any doodles in that notebook your time will double to another hour. " The green eyed male seated himself back down on his chair. " Now start writing. "

A minute of silence passed through the room as Gilbert deemed himself safe, falling back on the couch face first, keeping the pressure of his behind. Alfred just stared at the notebook in front of him as if it had started glowing, he turned his attention back on the Brit, wide eyed. " This is it? "

Arthur looked up from his work, obviously irritated at the interruption. " What the bloody hell do you mean? "

" It's just I thought you'd some more ass hole -ish! This is actually pretty normal for you! "

The Briton crinkled his nose distastefully, glowering at the American. " There is no such word as 'ass hole - ish', Jones. And what makes you think you know me so well? "

Instead of answering the question, Alfred moved on, now reminded of the conversation he had earlier with a certain Hungarian. " Y'know, I think you don't like me 'cause you don't know me all that well! You're probably one of those losers who've never read my magazines, right? "

Arthur twitched at the insult, his hand threatening to snap his pen in half. Alfred just continued speaking. " I'm a really awesome guy! A Hero too! I bet if ya get to know me, you'd fall in love with me easy! So, I really lik-"

" You like eating hamburgers, fries, ice cream, frequenting Mc Donalds, American football, anime, and anything patriotic that has anything to do with America. Your hobbies are making friends, and archaeology . You have a favourite bomber jacket that your grandfather gave that you usually wear and you prefer wearing comfortable clothing rather than slim fit ones. ", Arthur cut off the American, surprising the taller male with a list of almost everything about him.

" Wow. You already knew all that? That's kinda creepy."

The Briton twitched at the response, shooting up from his desk and stomping over to a file cabinet at the corner of the room. Violently tearing it open, he extracted a document, slamming it in front of the American. " This is a copy of your student application. You filled the entirety of the additional information section with personal information about yourself! "

Taking the document, Alfred scanned it lazily, quirking an eyebrow. " I did? But wasn't that what it was for? "

" It was for additional information such as living conditions, work information, illnesses and the such that was not asked for in the application. NOT for personal interests and hobbies! "

Ripping the document from the blue eyed male's grip, Arthur returned it to the cabinet. " Now shut up and start writing or I WILL use that pencil for your bloody face! "

Picking up the pencil, Alfred grumbled in complaint. " Geez! You don't have to be so pissy. "

" Belt the fuck up! "

Finally writing in the notebook, the blue eyed let out a bored sigh as he looked at the paper, only two lines filled with the sentence. Taking a peek at the Brit, Alfred whipped out his phone, hiding it under the table and started texting with one hand, the other on the table with the pencil. It wasn't long though until Arthur noticed.

" Put away that bloody phone or I'll take it away, Jones. "

Looking up from his cell phone, Alfred grinned, hiding the phone away. " What're you talkin' about? I was writing! "

Arthur twitched at the blatant lie, glaring at the golden blond. " The area under the table is glowing. You are either using a phone or your crotch is glowing. Now put the phone away! "

Shrugging nonchalantly, the American, answered back to the order. " Can't we say my crotch is that awesome? "

A nerve bulged in Arthur's forehead as he glowered at the male, his expression twitching as if deciding if he should just screw the consequences and kill the blue eyed male. Instead he breathed in deeply, leaning under his desk. A small hiss entered the room as Arthur procured a carton of milk tea, jabbing in the straw, and sucking on it. Alfred pouted at the Brit, staring at the drink.

" You have a fridge under your desk? That ain't fair! "

Arthur sent a scowl to match the pout, answering. " Privileges, Jones. I have them. You don't. "

" Hey, Eyebrows, pass me one ! "

Once more awakening from his half-dead state, Gilbert got up from the couch, gesturing towards the Brit. Arthur scowled at the nick name, though he still reached under his desk and threw the German a carton.

" Hey, lemme have one too! "

Alfred looked up expectantly at the Brit, only to be disappointed when Arthur looked away, casually sipping away at his tea and answering. " Like I said Jones. Privileges. You don't have them.

Gilbert grinned. " And prisoners aren't supposed to get rewards! "

" Aww, c'mon! I'm thirsty! And I'm bored! I wanna stretch too! It's cramped in here!"

Slamming his tea carton onto his desk, the Briton turned his attention to the red eyed German. " Gilbert. The foot ball in the storage room. Get it. "

Arthur's aura seemed to take on a dangerous glow again, forcing the Albino to obey without question. He entered another door in the room, exiting moments later with a soccer ball. Tilting his head confusedly, Alfred stared at the ball. " Isn't that a soccer ball? It's not a football"

" It's a FOOT BALL. I don't understand why you American's call this a soccer ball when it's obviously for your FOOT. "

Taking the ball from the German, Arthur strode out the door, motioning for the American to follow. Alfred got up, leaving his stuff behind to go after the Brit, slightly confused. Arthur spared one last glance into the room, giving instructions to the red eyed Albino. " You can leave whenever you want, just leave the door unlocked. Kiku is coming back to pick up his stuff after his meeting with Mr. Karpusi. "

Gilbert gave a short salute, falling back onto the couch and chucking his milk tea carton in a perfect arc, landing it in the waste bin. Arthur shut the door, striding down the hall and once more gesturing the American to follow.

" Hey, Kiku's that Japanese guy, right? ", Alfred asked, matching his pace with the Briton's and bending forward to take a peek at the scowl he was wearing. Arthur barely spared a glance at the American before answering. " He is Japanese, yes. "

" Why'd he have to stay behind to see the history teacher? Did he get detention, too? "

Scowling, the emerald eyed male began to answer, but, before the words made their way out of his mouth, he paused, his eyes beginning to shimmer with amusement.

" I suppose you could say that he is in trouble. "

" Oh, that sucks! But, Mr. K seemed pretty lax though, he didn't seem like the type to give out detentions. "

Smirking, Arthur replied to the statement, looking the American in the eye. " Don't underestimate the teacher's at this school, Jones. They know how to give-" The sandy blond's eyes glimmered knowingly. " -proper punishment... "

* * *

Alfred stood at the entrance of the school, bathing in the October chill, the shorter male standing beside him, a rake in one hand and the soccer ball in the other. He looked at the the shorter male. " Hey, what are we doing? "

Ignoring the blue eyed teen, Arthur continued walking to the side of the school, revealing a small line of trees growing at the entrance of the school field, the ground covered with a multitude of red, yellow, orange and brown leaves. He stopped right in front of it, handing the rake to the American. " YOU will rake the entire side of this field, until there isn't a single leaf left. "

Alfred looked distastefully at the rake in his hand, protesting. " Why? Making me work ain't cool! "

The Brit just rolled his eyes at the protest, making his way to a sunny area where he could sit while at the same time sarcastically giving his reason. " It was cramped, you were bored, and you wanted to stretch, right?"

" But I was only supposed to stay for an hour! This would take -" Alfred made another attempt at protest, only to be cut off by a mocking voice.

" Then you'd betters start working, Jones. Or maybe this is too much for a self proclaimed hero. "

Arthur was smirking back at the blue eyed male from a few steps in front of him, challenging him from where he stood. Alfred easily took the challenge, protecting his pride as a Hero. " I could do it! You'll see! This is easy! " Taking the a step into a field, the American began raking, though it wasn't even ten minutes before the American began complaining once more. " This is boooorininnng!" Turning his attention to the Brit, who was several feet away, just watching the American work, ball in hand, Alfred voiced his complaints. " Arrrthuuurrr! I don't like this! Can't we play soccer instead ? ! I mean, why'd the hell you bring the ball out anyways! "

Instead of answering, Arthur staggered upwards, dropping the ball on the ground and glowering at the American. He placed his foot just behind the ball and examining the distance to the other male, the Briton swung his limb back, propelling it at the ball and kicking it. Hard.

" What the hell? "

The ball whizzed pass the American, barely nicking his arm and hit the school wall, rebounding into the air and back in front of the emerald eyed male, who grinned. " That is the reason I brought the foot ball. Now, if you stop working, I will kick it again. And next time I won't bloody miss. "

Alfred froze in his spot, staring at his arm where the ball just passed. It had gone so close that he had felt wind on his arm as it flew by. He quickly tightened his grip on the rake, getting back to the leaves, pouting as Arthur smiled, satisfied.

* * *

Almost half an hour after the blue eyed male had begun raking, less than half of what he had to get done raked, Arthur got up from his seat in the grass, heading back towards the school building.

" Hey! Where're you goin' ? ! "

Not pausing in his march, Arthur answered, not even bothering to look at the American. " I have some place I need to be. " His voice took on a sarcastic tone, as he used the Alfred's words against him. Anyways, this is BORING. "

" C'mon! You can't just leave me here! You said I had to finish this! "

Stopping in his tracks, Arthur turned his head slightly so that the American was barely in his peripheral vision. " Then finish it, git." He returned to walking to the school. " I need to be somewhere. Once you're done, return the rake to the custodian's storage. "

" That's not fair! I should be at work right now too! "

Sighing, Arthur didn't glance back as he answered. " Too bad, Jones. Life isn't fair. "

* * *

An hour later, Alfred wiped the sweat off his brow, examining his work with a proud gin. The leaves were in two neat piles, the rest of the field free of any fallen waste. " Ha! Told him I could do it! Don't underestimate the Hero! " Leaning against the rake handle and wiping the rest of the sweat off his face, the American frowned when he felt the brush of chapped lips. He groaned. " Fuck. Felik's is gonna be pissed if I come in looking like this! I need a drink! " Dropping the rake where it was, not bothering to follow Arthur's orders to return it, Alfred reentered the school, heading back to the student council room to grab his bags. He bumped into Gilbert along the way.

" Hey, golden boy! You smell like shit! "

The red eyed Albino grinned, stepping towards the American. " What'd the hell did Arthur make you do? "

Alfred shrugged. " Nothing the Hero couldn't handle. "

" Kesesese~ Is that so? You still smell like crap though! " He nodded. " Well, see ya! Twll eyebrows to go to hell for me when you see him , okay? "

Frowning, Alfred replied. " He already left. "

" Hmmm. Then he must've come in while I was taking a nap. Maybe he went to visit Frenchie again. I'll tell him to go fuck himself tommorow. "

Before Gilbert left, Alfred gazed at the red eyed male, his eyebrows furrowed, asking a question. " Who's Frenchie? "

The German shrugged, passing the American as he gave the American a vague answer, a smirk forming on his lips. " I guess you could say they're friends with benefits." Quickly leaving the American behind, the German headed towards the stairs, grinning when he glanced back and spotted the frown on blue eye male's face. Alfred pouted, mumbling himself and entering the student council room. " benefits? "

Striding towards his stuff, Alfred pulled his blazer out, surprised when a carton of milk tea spilled out. He picked it, examining the half cold carton. " Did eyebrows drop this in my bag? " He shrugged, jabbing in the straw an taking a sip. " Cool. "

Fastening his back, the American tossed it over his shoulder, heading to the exit. Just as he reached for the door handle, it opened on it's own, a Japanese male entering from the other side. Kiku smiled politely at the sight of the American. " Jones -san? You are still here? "

" Yup! Just leaving right now! " He grinned. You just had detention with Mr. Karpusi, right? How was it? Bet you it wasn't as bad as what eyebrows made me do! "

Kiku tilted his head slightly confused at the question. " Detention? I di-"

He paused as his eyes widened slightly in realization, an amused smile finding it's way onto his face. " Ah, yes. I found it rather...stimulating."

This time it was Alfred's turn to be confused. " Stimulating? " His confusion disappeared after a moment as he began to complain of his own experience. " Well, Arthur made me rake leaves outside! How can you be friends with him? He's such a douche! "

Kiku smiled softly, entering the room. "I find Arthur-san to be a very kind person. "

Scoffing at the response, the blue eyed male took another step forward towards the exit. " Well, that's stupid. " He took one more step. " Well, I gotta go, now! See ya tomorrow! "

Treading towards the door, Alfred stopped when the Japanese male begun to speak again. He turned his attention back onto the shorter male. " What? Did ya say something? "

Kiku smiled, repeating what was said. " Before you leave, may I ask you a question? "

"Sure. Ask away.", Alfred answered, stopping at the door.

" You wish for Arthur to fall in love with you, correct? "

Raising his eyebrow at the question, Alfred replied. " Yeah. "

Kiku lifted his hand to his chin and tilted his head, staring at the American contemplatively. " If you succeed in that task...what is it that you plan to do? "

" Huh? ", the blue eyed male stared at the other male, tilting his own head in thought before dismissing the question. " dunno. Maybe if he stops being an asshole, we could date for a while. If e shave off his eyebrows he'd be pretty hot, so he might make a good lay. Why're you asking? "

Kiku didn't answer the question as his smile dropped, black orbs darkening. " Is that so? Then you may leave. "

" Oh, okay.", making his way through the door, the American was once more stopped by the Japanese male's voice.

" Jones -san. Gilbert -san and I would not normally tolerate these sort of events to occur with Arthur-san. But, in the past two days he has displayed more emotions, though negative, than he has in the last several years, therefore, we believe that this can be beneficial to him to an extent. " Alfred turned to glance at the black haired male, surprised to see an uncharacteristic glare on his face. " We will observe this for the mean time. But, if you continue to hold that mind set in the future, we will intervene. And if Arthur becomes hurt in anyway... " He paused. " You will not be forgiven. "

* * *

**I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THIS LATE UPDATE! I know it's been a month but I've been busy!With stuff. Like school And wanted to finish my other fic too! Well, I did so this will be my main focus from now on! XD And I know I promised more Francis in this chapter but, I ended up putting in less than half of what I initially planned into this! Sorry! DX! But Arthur's gonna visit Francis now so, he'll totally be there next chappie! And isn't Alfred such a douche? I wonder what you guys would say if I told you that I actually spend time planning ways that make him sound more of an asshole. Forgive my fail! French. If I made a mistake feel free to correct it too!**


	6. Vegetables make people sane Or not

**A/N: So, I just decided to raise the rating for language and stuff an so I don't forget later.**

* * *

Sliding out the passenger seat of his Bentley convertible, Alfred F. Jones stepped forward onto the smooth concrete walkway, standing below a tall, conservative building rising six floors high, prominent wording gazing down below as it showed off it's name for all to see.

Bonneland Modelling Agency.

America's largest and hottest foreign modelling agency. And the only company to hold a partnership between two respective British and French owners and _still _be one of the most successful modelling agencies worldwide. It was an honour as well as a privilege to be a part of such an organization. And for Alfred, being one of it's top American models was his utmost pride. Smiling, the American tore his eyes away from the beautiful sight to glance back at his car, bending over to take a peek through the half open window and smile at his personal chauffeur.

" Thanks for the ride again, Eduard! "

Alfred gave a small salute at his pale haired driver, smile widening when the Estonian returned the salute with his own plus a smile, swiftly pushing his glasses up to his face with two fingers, deftly achieving a 'cool spy' type look as his glasses reflected the light of the sun.

" No problem, Mr. Jones! It's my job, is all! "

Resting his elbow on the passenger seat mirror, the blue eyed male laughed. " Well then, thanks for doin' a good job at it! " Alfred straightened himself out, brushing off the front of his clothing, a smile still on his face. " And call me Alfred! I keep telling you 'Mr. Jones' is way too formal! How many times does this make ? "

Eduard grinned, answering quickly. " One hundred and ninety -two times in the past 24 months. "

Raising his eyebrow, Alfred smiled. " And you're still calling me, ' Mr. Jones' ? Stop being formal already! "

The Estonian shook his head at the reply, though the smile still remained. " No way! You're my boss! Can't have myself be disrespectful! "

Starting the car back up, the pale haired Estonian waved back at the American as he put the vehicle in drive, " I'll pick you up from work at nine! See you then! "

Alfred waved at the retreating vehicle, turning back towards his work building. He strode towards the entrance, fishing through his jean pockets for his I.D. Once he successfully fished it out, he stood in front of he front door, swiping the card by the side and grinning when an electronic voice filled the air.

_Welcome to Bonneland Modelling Agen_cy, _Alfred F. Jones._

Grinning at the greeting, the American stepped forward, stepping through the door as it slid open, lock unclicking. A brown haired receptionist was the first the blue eyed male saw as he walked in. Waving, Alfred strode towards the front desk.

" Mei! Hey, Wassup? ! "

A brown haired Taiwanese girl glanced up from the front desk, her face lighting up slightly at the American's presence. " Alfred! Are you in for work this evening? "

Shuffling closer to where the brunette was seated, Alfred, leaned his elbow on the desk casually, striking up a conversation.

" Yup! I'm working evenings mostly now, 'cause I just moved to a new school! They don't let me off classes for work like my old one did, so I can't work mornings and afternoons anymore. "

Mei nodded her head at the reply. " Oh, I remember you telling everyone that! What was it called again? "

" It's called Hetalia Academy!", Alfred answered the question cheerfully, pausing for a moment after his response to tilt his head in thought. Once a second had passed, he frowned, furrowing his eyebrows and suddenly slamming both palms onto the desk, dramatically. " But! There's this one guy! The student council president! He's a real jerk! The guy acted like he hated me since day one! "

Slightly startled by the outburst, the brunette quickly regained her composure, obviously experienced in dealing with such situations as a receptionist. She smiled, responding calmly to the American's flare up. " Hetalia Academy? If you have any trouble, why don't you talk to Francis? He goes there too, doesn't he? "

Alfred relaxed his arms, his expression looking slightly surprised at the new piece of information. " Francis goes to Hetalia Academy? But isn't he nineteen? I thought he already graduated."

" He had to repeat the last year because he kept missing too many days. It's probably why the school won't allow anyone else put their work before school ". The brown eyed girl gained a thoughtful twinkle in her eye as her line of sight drifted to the seemingly empty lobby towards a couch facing a mounted television by the far wall." Better yet, why don't you ask Arthur? He came in a while ago to give Francis his homework, but Francis is still at a photo shoot. I think he fell asleep waiting for him. "

Freezing at the name, Alfred grinned a little nervously, not trusting his ears. " Arthur? "

Mei sent an optimistic smile at the American, slightly confused to why Alfred seemed a little uneasy. " Arthur is one of Francis' friends! He usually comes by after school ends to give Francis his homework before he goes to work. I don't think you two have met yet because he only comes by evenings and you used to work earlier, during the day. " She glanced back at her computer monitor, reading the clock. " I think he has to leave for his job at half past seven. It's six-thirty, so you have an hour if you want to talk to him. He's over by the couch in front of the T.V. I hope he didn't wake up when you slammed your hands down."

Alfred nodded slowly, turning rigidly towards the open lobby and shuffling towards the couch that he was directed at. He carefully took a peek above where a body was indeed lying in. Tension rising, the golden blond slid his eyes over a familiar green sweater vest, his sight moving upwards until they rested on a pair of giant eyebrows, settled under another pair of closed eyes.

Shit.

Retreating back from the couch, Alfred shot a small, panicked look back at the receptionist, sending out a hushed whisper that she couldn't hear from the other side of the room. Realizing this, the American ran back towards the front desk, on his toes, making sure to keep quiet as not wake up the sleeping male, knowing that the Brit would probably be irate if he woke up. Once reaching the front desk, Alfred pointed back at the couch hurriedly, whispering once more.

" That's him! "

Mei nodded her head slowly, frowning and very much confused of the American's reaction.

" Yes...That's Arthur. "

Seeing that the Taiwanese girl didn't understand his point, Alfred waved his hands around more widely, attempting to elaborate. " No! "

The brunette nodded again, staring at the American, still confused. " ...that's not Arthur? "

" No! I mean...he's...! ", Alfred's eyes widened when he realized his voice was raised. He immediately lowered it, leaning closer towards the female and continuing with a hushed whisper. " He's that asshole president I was talking about! "

Mei dropped her confused expression as she smiled once more. " Arthur's the student council president? Well, then you could ask him why he's so mean to you then. "

Alfred protested, his mouth falling into a pout. " He'll just say ' because you're so bloody annoying' again. "

" He said that? It does sound like something he would say. " The brown eyed girl chuckled softly. " Why don't you try again? "

Pouting in response, Alfred nodded reluctantly, shuffling back towards the couch, mumbling softly to himself. " ...stuffy Britons...why can't he just fall in love with me? "

Continuing to make his way towards the couch, Alfred crouched down in front of the sleeping male, staring at the other teen's peaceful expression. He tilted his head to get a closer look, noting the soft, steady breathing that emanated from the other male.

_...he actually looks kind of cute when he's asleep._

Placing his head in his hands, Alfred rested his elbows on a free space on the couch cushions, just staring at the Briton just long enough to be deemed creepy by the only other onlooker in the room. Tilting his head again, the American reached over and brushed a piece of hair from the smaller male's face, his hand freezing over Arthur's eyebrows, eyes widening.

_Dude! His eyebrows are so soft!_

Alfred's feature's lit up at new discovery, his mind beginning to forget the fact that he wasn't supposed to wake up the Brit as he continued to stroke the furry brows. After only a few moments, the American's attention was completely captured by the feel of brows, as if enamoured. So much that he didn't notice a pair of toxic green eyes staring up at him.

"... what the bloody hell are you doing? "

Alfred's hands froze, an anxious grin finding it's way on his face as his sight fell down to the tired, annoyed and not to mention infuriated glare that contorted the emerald eyed male's face. The American answered short seconds later, a short, ' I'm so dead' chuckle making it's way out his lips.

" ...Feeling your eyebrows...? "

Arthur's fist made it's way so quickly towards the American's face so fast that he only saw a blur. The hit wasn't hard enough to leave a bruise, nor high enough to knock the glasses off his face.

But it was hard enough to hurt.

" What the fuck was that for ? ! That hurt ! ! "

" Belt up, you bloody wimp! That was because you were stroking my bloody eyebrows while I was fucking asleep! "

Alfred protested, clutching his face. " That didn't mean you had to hit me! And it's your fault 'cause you were sleeping! "

The Briton stood up, glaring at the American threateningly. " Well, obviously I didn't hit you hard enough! Why are you even he-"

Arthur didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as a binder came hurdling towards him, slamming right into the back of his head. Mei was on her feet, frowning at the Briton, another binder on the ready.

" Arthur! Don't hit our models! Especially not in the face! "

The sandy haired blonde gazed back in surprise at the Taiwanese female, rubbing the back of his head. " What ? ! You mean this git ? !

Mei threw up her hands in exasperation before crossing them and staring authoritatively down at the Brit. " Yes. That git. He's one of this company's top models. So, no hitting him. "

Arthur let out a noise of protest which was immediately stifled with another look from the young lady. He let out a sigh of defeat, sliding back onto the couch and leaning his head into one hand.

" Fine. I won't hit the prat anymore! " Glancing back, the green eyed male took a peek back at the American who was still recovering on the floor. He mumbled to himself, glowering. " Bloody Francis...he didn't tell me he was working with annoying Americans. "

Staggering upwards, Alfred pouted, rushing up to defend himself. " Hey! I'm not annoying! "

The Brit only scoffed in answer, causing the taller male to step forward, still pouting. " And this is America! Everyone is American! That's why it's called a melting pot! So there! "

Arthur glared at the male, shuffling to the far cushions of the couch, trying to put as much space between him and the American. " Just belt the fuck up! "

" You're just mad 'cause I'm right! "

Continuing to glower at the blue eyed teen, the Briton turned his head away, signalling the end of their conversation. Unfortunately for him, the American strode closer, attempting to continue it.

" See! You're not sayin' nothing so I'm right! "

Arthur let out a sigh, continuing to ignore the other male and not noticing as Alfred inched closer, taking the emerald eyed male's previous motion of shifting to the far end of the sofa as an invitation to sit. " Soooo~ You're friends with Francis? "

Glancing at the American, a look of unrestrained horror fell on Arthur's face as he spotted the diminishing proximity between them, as well as Alfred's expression. He could only cringe and curse his mind for it's inability to describe the expression as anything but flirtatious.

" What the bloody hell are you doing, Jones? ", Arthur uttered his word's softly, trying his utmost to keep calm and uphold his promise not to hit the prat. So far, other than several muscle twitches located by his eye and face, he was doing well. For now, at least.

" Nothin'~", Alfred answered in a sing song voice, missing the twitches on the other male's face that could have served as a warning, if he had saw them. Arthur felt a muscle spasm in his hand as the urge to connect his fist with something, anything - though an American's face would have been much preferred - swept through him. He could only cross his arms and legs in front of him, putting up a barrier around himself and allowing the dangerous aura of ' move a single inch closer and I'll punch the window and stick the shards up your arse' to seep out of his pores. Unluckily, the aura was unable to make it's notice to the American, causing Arthur to sigh and make a point of speaking. " Aren't you supposed to be bloody working right now, Jones? "

" Maybe~ Y'know, you could call me Alfred~ "

Swallowing quickly, Arthur forced down what could have been a small amount of vomit from the American's words. He shot an exasperated glance at the receptionist, attempting to ask for just one more hit with his eyes. Mei was watching the entire affair with great amusement, catching the Brit's glance and shaking her head at the unsaid request. Fortunately for Arthur, the Taiwanese girl wasn't completely indifferent to his situation.

" Alfred? Shouldn't you go look for Feliks now? "

The named male looked up to meet the brown haired girl's gaze, frowning slightly. " I'm gonna wait 'till he comes down. Last time I went up to look for him he was making out with Braginski's manager. "

Mei looked slightly surprised at the revelation. " With Toris? Really? "

Shuffling away from his seduction attempt with Arthur, Alfred faced the brunette, leaning his head on the top of the couch and beginning to recall his past encounter. " Yeah! They were making out on a desk in one of the empty rooms on the third floor! I heard Feliks voice from outside so I went in and they were really goin' at it! They didn't notice when I came in 'till I was all ' WTF?' ! "

Mei put a hand to her mouth, attempting to hide the growing smile on her mouth. " Wow. " She leaned in closer to the American's direction, her eyes growing more excited. " So! Who was topping? "

Arthur choked on the question, his mind still trying to comprehend that the two were openly talking about someone's sex life without the discussed person present. Alfred answered the question with ease. " Feliks was on the desk so I think Toris was topping!" He grinned. " Y'know, I already knew they were dating but I couldn't tell who topped 'till I saw them. You think they take turns? "

Staggering upwards, the Briton shuffled towards a small island table, hoping to make himself a cup of tea and ignore the present conversation. Alfred took notice, glancing at the retreating Brit. " Hey! Where're ya goin' ? "

" To die. " Arthur answered in a monotone voice, reaching for a cup and the hot water dispenser.

" Hey! You makin' coffee? Get me a cup too! "

The green eyed male swivelled backwards to meet the American's gaze, scowling. " I am **not **getting that bitter tasting crap! " He turned back, resuming his previous motions of making tea. Alfred seemed a little downhearted at the angry outburst. " Oh...um...can you get me a cup anyways? "

Arthur ignored the other male, weighing the pros and cons of getting the American a cup of coffee. He opted yes, deciding that anything to get the prat to shut up would be worth the extra labour and forgetting what caffeine could do to a person. Pouring coffee into a cup, the sandy blond waited for his own cup of tea to steep before heading back to the couch, both cups in hand. Surprisingly, Alfred thanked him for the drink, contently taking sips, barely talking for five minutes except to complain about no sugar in his coffee.

It was a good five minutes.

" Soooo~ You and Francis friends? ", Alfred repeated his earlier question, beginning to start another conversation. Cringing at the appalling grammar, Arthur answered. " ...I don't believe ' friends' would be the term for it. "

" Then fuck buddies? ", the blue eyed male offered, remembering Gilbert's word's from earlier and his use of 'friends with benefits' to describe the two male's relationship. Arthur, frankly, was not amused. Choking on his tea, and being reprimanded by Mei for almost staining the carpet with his drink, the Briton glowered, his eyes widened in shock. "Why in bloody fuck you think that the Frog and I are bleeding fuck buddies? ! "

" Well, Gilbert said - "

Arthur rolled his eyes. " Now it all makes sense. "

" - that you and Francis were friends with benefits. "

The emerald eyed male sighed exhaustively, the third time in the last half hour, and glared weakly at the American. " Francis and I are **not** fuck buddies. But using the term friends with benefits loosely, then yes. We can be call friends with benefits. "

Alfred leaned closer, interested. " So what kinda benefits are we talkin' about? "

Arthur's left eye twitched as he mentally berated himself, asking why the fuck he was even talking to this git. With another sigh, and the constant telling to himself that having a conversation would be less irritating than having the American pester him, the green eyed teen answered. " Benefits such as cooking me dinner and using my apartment as a hide out when annoying fans begin to stalk him. "

" Oh, I forgot. "

Before Alfred had a chance to reply, both male's turned to the only female in the room, her voice ringing clear in the large setting. " Mei? What'd ya forget? "

Standing up, the Taiwanese receptionist brushed herself off, heading towards a door to the back end of the desk, answering as walked. " I think Francis left a lunch box for when you came in, Arthur. I meant to give it to you earlier but I forgot. I'll go get it. I'll check on Francis too. "

Watching the Asian female disappear into the back, Alfred glanced at Arthur, who seemed to have perked up slightly at the mention of the lunch box. " Sooo. Francis' cooking is that good, huh?

The sandy haired blond teen flinched at the statement, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. " W- what the bloody hell are you talking about ? ! It tastes like shit! "

Alfred raised his eyebrows in amusement, noting the change in the other male's usually cool or threatening demeanour. " Why'dya look so happy then? "

Arthur stuttered, defending himself. " I'm not bloody happy! I'm just slightly relieved since I'm hungry and this way I won't have to waste of my bloody money and time going out to eat at one of those disgusting American restaurants before work !"

The American pouted, looking affronted at the insult to his country's restaurants. " Hey! American restaurants are awesome! Especially Mc Donalds!"

Scoffing, the Brit retorted at the comment. " Mc Donalds, Jones? That's the worst of the lot!"

Alfred protested, still pouting. " It's the best! You're just mad, 'cause I'm right and you can't admit that you like Francis' cooking! "

" What ? ! I don't like his cooking! ", Arthur glared at the American for good measure. " I don't! Now belt up or I'll smack you! "

" Mei said you can't hit me! ", Alfred retorted, his confidence level diminishing when the Brit smirked. " But Mei's not here, is she? "

" I'm right behind you, Arthur. "

Flinching at the sudden voice, Arthur swivelled backwards, spotting the annoyed Taiwanese female behind him.

" I told you not to hit him! ", Mei scowled, two small boxes, one larger than the other in her hand. She took a step back, threatening to take them away. Arthur frowned, an unusual downtrodden expression falling on his face. " I didn't hit him! "

" But you were about to! " The brunette deepened her scowl, staring at the English male. " Apologize. "

Arthur's jaw dropped in horror at the order as he alternated his gaze between the American and the Asian. He frowned. " I'd rather castrate myself than apologize to that git! "

Mei smirked a refusal, keeping the food boxes away the the Briton's reach. " Oh ho? So you don't want your dinner? " She took a peek inside the boxes, whistling. " This looks really good! I don't mind taking them, if you don't want them. "

The green eyed male opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to whine in protest but was too proud to do so. He bit his lip, glowering at the American. " ...Fine. I'm sorry. I won't hit you. On the face. When Mei is around. "

The Taiwanese girl smiled, stepping forward and dropping the boxes on Arthur's laps. She grinned down at the male. " See? Not so hard! "

Arthur continued to grumble, shuffling farther away from the others in the room as Alfred stared at the Brunette with new found admiration. " Shit, Mei. You got eyebrows to apologize? " A speechless expression made it's way onto his face. " Wow. I mean. Wow. Mei. You are a God. "

The brunette flicked at her hair with smirk, strutting back to her desk. " No prob! Call me if he's giving you trouble. I'll put him in his place! " She glanced back. " Oh, and Francis will be down in another ten minutes "

The green eyed male let out a groan in response, sliding one of the tupperware boxes open, and sticking a fork inside. Leaning over, Alfred took a peek at the contents, wondering what could have gotten the evil eyebrows to apologize. It was only a simple meal of seasoned beef and green vegetables with a side of white rice but from heavenly look on the Brit's face, the food wasn't just good. It was _**damned **_good.

" Hey...share? "

Sending Arthur a pair of full blast puppy dog eyes, Alfred pouted, his expression much literally looking like a dog begging for food at the table. Arthur's face remained neutral as he stared between the American and his food. Strangely though, and unexpectedly, he offered up a forkful of seasoned vegetables towards the blue eyed male, not so much a complaint or insult leaving his lips. Alfred just stared at the fork cautiously, as if the Brit had somehow poisoned it. After a moment though he took the bite, sapphire orbs widening at the taste.

" Holy...this stuff is awesome!_**"**_

Alfred chewed at the food slowly, savouring the taste as it washed over his mouth. Moist but not watery. A sweet, tangy taste, yet not sour. The American continued to chew, closing his eyes and focusing on nothing but the small heaven on his tastebuds.

" I - I didn't know Francis could cook. This is...fuckin'..amazing! "

Arthur smirked at the American's reaction, swallowing his own food, carefully balancing his current container on the sofa's arm rest and reaching for the second box which considerably smaller than the first, though the contents were just as amazing, maybe even more so.

It was a cup cake.

Not just any cupcake. Watching Arthur slip the cover off, Alfred mouth's watered at the sight of the mountain of cream swirling up, larger than the baked part itself. With a cherry on top. A frickin' **cherry!** And that made it loads better.

" Dude. Share. "

Arthur smirked at the American, shaking his head. " This one's mine, Jones. "

" Duuuuudeeeeee... commmmeeeee ooonnnnn! " Alfred whined, attempting another puppy eye attack. From the glare on the Brit's face, the attempt failed.

Quivering his bottom lip, the American continued his assault, hoping that the other male would eventually relent. He didn't. So, continuing his constant attempts, Alfred stared pleadingly at the Brit, though, after a few moments, his eyes began to wander around the room, falling the other container that Arthur had supposedly finished eating out of. He frowned. " Hey. You didn't eat your vegetables. "

Arthur's fork froze over his dessert, unable to take the first bite of his cake as emerald orbs sidled sideways, taking one glance at the unfinished vegetables. His line of sight darted back forward, onto his unstarted dessert. " ...I'll finish it later. After I eat this. "

Alfred stared at the smaller male scrutinizingly, recognizing the avoidance attempts that he, himself, used as a child. " Yer not gonna eat it, are you? " He frown morphed into an uncharacteristic scowl. " Dude, that's not good for you. "

Arthur reciprocated the scowl, glowering at the other male. " Don't be a bloody hypocrite, Jones. Eating bloody cheeseburgers three meals a day, doesn't exactly spell out 'healthy' . "

" Hey! I still eat my servings of vegetable per day! That's the reason I'm so awesome and healthy looking! And my skin's perfectly smooth and touchable! " The American gave the Brit a one over. " If you're not eating your vegetables, no wonder you're always so pissy all the time! And bony! And pale! "

The green eyed male frowned at the insults. " I'm not pissy! "

" But you're didn't deny that you're bony and pale! " In one fluid motion, Alfred made a grab for both tupperware containers, successfully diving in front of the Brit and capturing them both.

" Oi! Give that back! "

Arthur jumped towards the American, attempting to retrieve his captured dessert. It was a failed plan as he crashed into the soft cushions of the sofa, hands empty of any containers. Alfred had already retreated from the couch, holding the containers an arms length away from the Brit. " Nuh uh! You can't reach it 'cause you're too short! That's 'cause you don't eat your vegetables! I bet the only reason you let me have a bite was because you didn't want to eat them! "

The emerald eyed male scowled, glaring at the American, still making a reach for his dinner. " Sod off! I'm hardly shorter than you! "

" But you're still shorter! If you want me to give it back, then eat your veggies! "

Taken aback at his childish treatment, Arthur scoffed at the order, making another grab for his dinner. " Belt up, Jones! You're not my bloody mother! "

Alfred merely took a step back, keeping the dessert out of grabbing hands. " I can act like it though! " Grinning, he flipped the fork in his hand, giving the vegetables a stab. Taking advantage of another one of the Brit's dives, he sidestepped, stopping the smaller male in his tracks and in one fluid movement, he shoved the fork, vegetables and all, down Arthur's throat.

" Blrgh ? ! " Arthur squawked at the forceful movement and at the sudden taste of vegetables in his mouth. He lashed out at the American, trying to wiggle his way out of his grip. It was a desperate attempt, almost successful because of the fact that the blue eyed male's hands were already occupied with holding two tupperware containers and a fork. But, of course, Alfred wouldn't let silly things like that get in his way. Throwing down the dessert container onto the sofa and careful to keep it right side up lest he wished to ignite the anger of an already irate Brit, Alfred shoved the other male down onto the other side of the couch, straddling him and hovering the fork, full of another shot of vegetables, over his face.

" C'mon, Artie~ Eat your veggies~ "

The Briton sent a ' what the fuck' look at the American, his expression mixed with what could only be anger.

" What the fuck are you doing, Jones ? ! Get your fat arse off me! " He scowled, his expression dropping dangerously . " I'm not a bloody child! I don-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the fork flew into his mouth, forcing the Brit to take another unwanted bite of vegetables. " Dude. You gotta eat your veggies if you wanna grow up to be sexy like me! Maybe if you ate your veggies, you wouldn't be all mad all the time and see how awesome I am! Veggies are good brain food too , y'know. Might help you clear your head and fall in love with me too! "

Swallowing another bite of green food with a grimace, Arthur scowled up at the male straddling him, cursing the prat's heavy arse " Are you saying I'm mental for seeing how much of a self centered git you are ? ! "

Alfred froze for a second, a pout appearing on his face. " Hey, that's mean! I'm not self centered! "

Arthur rolled his eyes, still able to pull of an aura of arrogance and sarcasm even in his position of being straddled. " Oh, _**I'm sorry. **_Maybe the term _narcissist _would describe it better. "

" Man, if you keep being mean, I'm not gonna give you your cake back. "

The Briton glared at the remark, deciding his pride would not let him back down for a piece of pastry. Even if that pastry was delicious. Really delicious. Not that he'd admit it. " Belt up, Jones. I'll be how I want to be! I'm not one of your bleeding groupies who would willingly bow at your feet just because you think you look good. "

Alfred grinned at the statement, taking it as a challenge. " Uh huh? Big words for someone who doesn't even like veggies! I bet - " He looked down at the containers, preparing to shove another load of vegetables into the Brit's mouth. But, seeing the contents, he frowned. It was empty. " Oh, c'mon! It's done already? That's no fun! "

Arthur smirked at the other male, grinning manically at the loss of one of the American's advantages. He immediately took the chance to shove the other male off him, onto another part of the couch. Completely forgetting that the cup cake was resting on the cushions.

" Hey! You just ruined my shirt! "

Alfred flailed slightly as he regathered his bearings, and sat up, trying to take a peek at the damage the cup cake had done to his clothing. " Noooo! This shirt was expensive! " At this moment, Alfred expected the Brit to tell him to belt up, so, steeling himself, the American frowned when nothing came.

" Hey, Arthur? " Turning towards the sandy haired blond, Alfred's frown deepened at the sight of the Brit mindlessly gazing at the destroyed pastry. " Uh? You okay? " Alfred leaned forward towards the other male, poking at his face to garner some sort of response. " Heeeeyyyy! Ya there? "

Arthur glanced at the American briefly, before returning to stare at the stained sofa. The reaction was all the other male needed to grin. " Ha ha! Don't look so down! I'll just buy you a Mcdonald apple pie some other time! Those are really damn good! "

Still staring at the sofa, Arthur began to speak. " ...Jones...? "

Alfred answered. " Yeah? "

"Die."

The Briton lunged.

* * *

" OW OW OW OW OW! Mei! Help me! ! " , Alfred yelled, trying to escape from the smaller male's clutches. Arthur's hands had found it's way to the American's throat, slowly tightening as he pushed the larger male to the ground. Mei got up up from her desk, deciding that the amusing show between the two male's was unfortunately over and finally decided to intervene. " Arthur! I told you - "

" I'm choking him, not hitting him! "

Arthur cut off the brunette's words, focusing on nothing but killing the annoying git. Both male's were busy either attempting murder or trying to save his own life to notice two blond's enter the room.

" I see that mon ami Alfred and mon cher Arthur are having a having...a very passionate time on the floor. It is unfair. I would have liked to join in. "

A very French voice wafted into the room, followed by another male yet female-like voice. " Yeah, they're like totally making out on the floor right now. That's like so weird! They could've gotten a room or something! "

" Hon hon hon. I believe in moments of passion such as this, one does not recognize his surroundings. "

Alfred and Arthur froze, glancing up at the source of both voices. Two long haired blonds were standing just behind the sofa , an entertained gleam in both their eyes.

" Are you guys like totally done with making out now? 'Cause Alfred, you like, have to work right now "

The American laughed nervously in response. " Ah ha ha! Hey, Feliks! So, you're not having sex with Braginski's manager today? "

Rolling his eyes, the Pole answered easily. " Toris and Ivan are working at another location today. Total bummer, I know. " He turned to the Brit. " So, Arthur can you stop straddling Alfred, so I can like talk to him? You guys can do whatever later. " The blond smiled mischievously. " Y'know if you want to make it more exciting, I can dress you up like a girl like I did when you were younger."

Arthur looked at the other male in horror, as if he had just been betrayed. " NO! I'm off! You can bloody have him! " Springing off the American, the Briton sped away, swerving towards Francis's direction and running past the side of the couch farthest from the Polish male. Alfred looked slightly perplexed at the new information he received though a smirk quickly found it's way to his face. " You dressed him up like a girl? "

Feliks returned the grin. " Like totally! In junior high, we had this really cute school uniform that fit him per- "

" FELIKS! "

Arthur continued to stare at the male in terror from beside the French teen, glaring and willing the other to shut up. The named male just shrugged. " There's like no shame in it. You should totally be proud that you looked cute. " He turned to Alfred who had gotten up and already made his way beside his manager , whispering. " If you want, I can totally give you pictures. He doesn't know I took some! "

Alfred nodded eagerly. " Yeah! That'd be great! " He paused. " So you knew eyebrows since he was a kid? "

" Like yeah. I used to volunteer here as a make up helper when I was sixteen. He was eight then " He put a had to his cheek, smiling and staring at Arthur in a reminiscent way, succeeding to run shivers down the younger male's spine. " He was so darling. He'd follow Francis around everywhere. It was funny how he'd always be tugging at the bottom of Francis's shirt. Even though whenever I'd ask him if he liked Francis he'd glare at me, hit Francis, then run off. "

Alfred raised his lower lip, in thought. Nope. He couldn't imagine Arthur being like that. Turning his attention away from his manager, he glanced at the two other male's who were both speaking to each other quietly, faces just inches apart.

* * *

" What the bloody hell took you so long ? ! Because of you I had to deal with that annoying prat of an American! Why didn't you tell me you had an idiot like him as a colleague!"

Arthur was glaring at Francis, who brushed the glare off easily. " Hmmm. You didn't ask me, _mon amour_. Though he didn't seem as annoying seeing how you were on top of him when we arrived. "

Left eye twitching, the green eyed male continued to glare. " Belt up! I was trying to kill him! And if you two didn't walk in, I probably would have succeeded! "

Ignoring the Brit's confession of attempted murder, Francis questioned the younger male. " So, why were you trying to kill _notre cher _Alfred? "

Arthur grumbled, answering. " He's not "our" dear, Alfred. I don't even like that fucking git. ...And he ruined my dessert. "

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow at the answer. " Your dessert? "

" ...Yes. That cup cake. "

Francis tilted his head slightly in thought. " You mean that _mont blanc_ that I baked you? "

The younger male nodded. " That one. "

A silence passed through the two males before finally, Francis chuckled. " That's it? I can make you another one! "

Arthur pouted at the brush off, glowering. " That's not just it! He gave me a wedgie earlier and he force fed me those vegetables that I hate, and I'm gonna punch you if you keep making them! And that narcissistic prat had the nerve to declare that he'd make me fall in bloody love with him! "

Francis gave another chuckle as he listened to the Brit rant, his voice slightly higher, and very much comparable to the tone of a whining child. It had been a while since he had heard the other male complain in such away. " So? Are you going to fall in love with him? "

Pausing at the question, Arthur's face twisted in annoyance for a moment before a familiar challenging smirk took over his expression. " Bloody hell no! I'm going to destroy the prat! Idiot didn't even have the right courtesy to even ask me if I liked men! "

" ... So do you? "

The American's voice cut the conversation in half as Alfred poked his head between the two males. " You gay, Arthur? "

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in irritation, scowling. " My sexuality is none of your concern, Jones! " He shook his head. " Look, I'm going to clean up the cup cake before Mei throws a fit! Your homework is on the front desk, Francis. I'll explain it to you in a minute. " Giving a sigh, the sandy blond strode across the room to grab a bunch of paper towels, focusing on cleaning up the mess on the sofa to his utmost.

" Soooo~ you guys seem like good friends. " Alfred stood beside the Frenchman, both males watching as Arthur cleaned up the smashed pastry from the sofa.

" We have known each other since we were children. Both of us spent much time with each other. "

" Hm. You two dating? "

Taking a glance at the American, who had his full focus on the Brit, Francis shook his head, slowly. If a person looked close enough, it would almost seem as though he was sad. " The two of us dating is impossible, _mon ami_. We are just friends. That's all "

Alfred nodded, satisfied with the answer. " So, uh. Do we have that cheesecake that you brought when we had the party to congratulate me for moving new schools? "

Mirroring the nod, Francis replied. _" Oui._ It's in the fridge. _Pourquoi? _"

Twiddling his thumbs, the American glanced away. " Well, uh, since you brought it for me. I was thinking that maybe you were the one who cooked it. And that maybe if I gave it to Arthu,r he won't try to strangle me anymore. "

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow. " A peace offering, mon cher? " He tilted his head for a moment. " _Oui_. I cooked it. "

" So, uh. Can I give it to Arthur? "

Francis just shrugged at the question. "_ Je ne sais pas._ It is your cake. "

Nodding at the ambiguious consent, Alfred shuffled away towards the front desk, towards the staff room door, going in search of a certain cheesecake.

* * *

On his return, Alfred found both Arthur at the Front desk, bent over several documents, the Brit pointing to each one in turn as Francis nodded. " This one is for history. The questions are straightforward and you'll find the answers in the sixth chapter... "

" Hey, Arthur! "

Running towards them, Alfred thrust the cake into the Brit's face, surprising the other male.

" ...what the bloody hell is this? "

The American answered with a smile. " It's cake! "

Arthur scowled . " I can see that, Jones! Why are you showing it to me? "

" 'Cause I'm awesome. And since you were whining like a girl earlier, I thought I'd be even more awesome and give you mine!"

" I wasn't bloody whining! "

Despite the denial, Arthur accepted the slice, widening the American's grin. As he took the slice , he glanced at the clock, swearing. " Shite! I'm almost late! " Thrusting the papers into Francis's arms, he headed to the door taking a quick glance back, leaving a few last words. " Francis,if you have any questions about the homework, you know what to do! I'm home from work around twelve, but I have school work to so I'll be asleep by three in the morning! Come anytime after that, I'm asleep so I won't answer the door and come anytime before that I'll stab you the moment I open the door. " He turned to the America. " Jones. I appreciate you giving me this cake. But at school, stay the fuck away from the student council room if you don't want to die! "

With that, Arthur strode out of the building., leaving all three male's plus Mei in the room. Alfred turned to Francis. " So, he really like cakes, huh? "

The Frenchman turned his head towards th American, to answer. " He like all sorts of pastries mon cher. "

Nodding, Alfred followed as Francis continued across the lobby towards a set of stairs. As he shuffled behind the Frenchman, the blue eyed male threw out one last question. " Soooo... Is he gay? "

* * *

**LONGEST CHAPTER EVER. Well, every single one of your questions shall be answered as the fic progresses, so no worries dudes! Can't tell you what Antonio did just yet, nor can I tell you guys if Arthur's a virgin. The answers will come though so be patient guys! XD Ah ha ha! Easter weekend finally ended like there days ago so Happy belated Easter everyone! **


	7. A little bit of past revealed

Alfred dragged his feet up a set of stairs, his shoes brushing against step's hard surface as he leaned sideways into the railing, whining.

" C'mon! MA -TTIE! Why'd we have to come to school _so early_ ? ! There's no one here yet! It's only six in the morning! "

Sliding his cheek against the railing's cold metal, the American peeked back at his brother, a pout on his face. The named blond seemed tired as well though he just let out a small sigh, shaking his head slightly.

" You're the one who insisted on coming with me, Al. You didn't have to come, eh. " He gave out a small yawn. " I have to go 'cause it's one of the duties I have to do for the student council. "

Continuing up the stairwell, the wavy haired blond rubbed at one eye tiredly, making his way towards the student council room and leaving the American to follow close behind him.

" Buuuuttt! I didn't get a chance to show Arthur my awesomeness yesterday! I couldn't find him at all when I went to the student council room and he ignored me in class! He kept staring at his desk for some reason. It was weird! "

The violet eyed male ascended the final steps of the stairs, reaching the top and patiently waiting for his brother as he glanced back at the American. Alfred straightened himself out, quickly taking his place beside his brother's side. " I thought that that if I came with you, I'd be able to catch him early! "

Shuffling down the hall, Matthew took a short glance at his slightly older brother. Small bags had appeared under the older male's blue eyes, noting that the American did indeed put in some sort of effort in waking up just to see Arthur. Tilting his head a bit, the wavy haired blond noted his sibling's uncombed hair. It stuck out strangely in odd angles, as if his cowlick had multiplied all over his head. Frowning, Matthew began to stare closely at his fellow blond. It was rare for the model to forget to comb his hair. " Eh...Alfred? "

Alfred turned his brother sluggishly at the call of his name, tilting his own head questioningly. " What? "

Matthew answered the question, pointing to the American's head. " Your hair...it's kinda..."

The remark went unfinished as Alfred reached for his head, patting at his hair, his eyes widening slightly. He flattened it down slightly, grinning. " It's meant to be like this! People really go for the bed head look! It's awesome!"

Matthew's face twisted somewhat strangely at the remark, his expression caught between smiling or frowning at the blue eyed male's behaviour. He pointed at the American's head again. " You have a knot right there, eh..."

Alfred's hand shot back to his head again, searching for the knot. Once he found it, he frowned, attempting to loosen it. " Just shut it, Mattie! " His frown deepened as his finger became tangled in a mess of blond. " I didn't get a chance to comb it 'cause you said you'd leave without me if I didn't hurry up! And if I came later, Arthur'd probably be gone by then!"

The student council room came into sight as both males quickened their pace slightly towards it. Matthew turned his head towards his brother who was still attempting to rid his hair of knots. " I don't think Arthur was ignoring you, eh. He was nodding off a bit in history which is probably why he looked like he was staring at his desk. And Gilbert said that he was taking naps around the school yesterday. "

Alfred flicked his hair at the statement, finally ridding his head of the knot. " Why's he always sleeping? I found him taking a nap where I worked - cause he was waiting for Francis - that day he gave me detention too. "

" Eh. Gilbert said that Arthur has a few jobs he works at. Plus he does student council work too. So, he's always tired eh. "

" Hm. So, Gilbert told you all that, huh? ", Alfred remarked, staring curiously at his brother's face. Matthew had turned slightly pink, a small smile gracing his lips at the comment. " G-gilbert told me that'd he'd help me out since I was the new vice president,eh. He talked to me a lot yesterday."

Standing in front of the student council room door, Matthew reached for the knob, turning it slightly so only a crack was open. The room was dark except for a strange white flickering that seemed to originate from a single part of the room.

" Gilbert? "

Applying more force to the door, the violet eyed male attempted to push the door slightly more open. But, before he could finish, Alfred pushed past him, forcing the door open and shouting a greeting.

" Hey, you guys! Hero's he - "

Freezing midway in his greeting, the American gulped, finally taking in the situation in front of him. The entirety of the room was shrouded in darkness, curtains drawn completely close. If not for the blinking screen of a television that was now resting atop one of the desks, it would have been almost impossible to see into the room. Eyes wandering across the screen, Alfred's eyes widened as he recognized the contents being shown.

A horror movie.

They were watching a goddamn horror movie.

Taking a step backwards, Alfred's azure orbs grazed over the rest of the room's occupants, his hands curling tightly in his nervousness. The American, of course, was not one for horror movies, despite being a Hero. It wasn't because he found them scary, no, a hero wasn't afraid of anything, but, at that moment, looking over the scene in the room, Alfred almost felt as if he was in one. All four members of the student council sans Matthew were seated on or around the couch, their eyes glued to the T.V screen as if possessed. Arthur was the only one seated on the floor, resting atop what seemed like a cushion covered by a blanket. None of the members seemed to notice the two males at the entrance, all focused on the blood splattered screen in front of them. Alfred attempted to once again attempt to greet them, in hope of catching their attention and decrease his rising paranoia of the situation.

" Hey, you guys... The her-" All four heads snapped to the entrance simultaneously, several pairs of coloured orbs reflecting the light of the entrance and glowing in the darkness. Alfred whimpered at the sight, shrinking behind his brother who seemed almost equally terrified as he was. " E-eh...? G-gilbert? A-arthur? K-kiku? M-michelle? What are you doing, eh?"

The violet eyed male questioned all four members in turn, equally confused of the situation as his older brother. Gilbert was the first to answer, smirking and putting a finger up to his lips to shush the two males, gesturing to the television. From the door, the gesture looked nothing short of eerie. Arthur was the next to answer, a scowl falling on his face as he caught sight of the American. His lips began to move as if to speak, though any words were drowned out by the movie as a dark chant filled the air.

Fear topped with paranoia, Alfred could only stare at the Brit in horror, watching as the lips moved silently, as if in sync with the chant. He was frozen in his spot, silent and terrified, unable to see the other male's increasing annoyance. It was only when Arthur muted the television and begin to speak did he react.

" I sa-"

" H-holy S-shit! M-mattie! D-did you see that ? ! " Alfred swivelled towards his younger brother, his eyes wide. " He was cursing me! I knew he hated me 'cause I'm awesome b-b-but...I didn't think he'd actually try to kill me! He's a witch!"

A silence followed the outburst, broken only when Gilbert burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. " _Mein Gott! _Bwa ha! E-eyebrows! He called you a witch! T-that's the awesomest thing I heard all morning!"

Arthur glared at the Albino, grabbing his ankle from from his spot in front of the couch and dragging the white haired male to floor with a thud. " Ow! What the fuck? "

" Shut the bloody hell up, Gilbert. "

Sending one more glare at the red eyed male, Arthur switched his attention back to the entrance.

" What the hell are you doing here, Jones? The school isn't open to regular students yet. "

Alfred straightened himself up, stepping forward and out from his hiding place behind his brother. " I came with Mattie! "

Frowning at the response, Arthur switched his line of sight to the wavy haired blond. " Matthew? "

The addressed male stiffened, looking away nervously. " I'm sorry,eh! He...he insisted, so I..."

Arthur sighed, shaking his head slightly. " It's fine. It's not against the rules if he came with a member of the student council. But I'd rather you avoid it. Your brother is irritating. "

" Hey! I'm no-" Alfred made a move to protest, though he was swiftly ignore as Arthur gazed around the room. " I finally brought Francis in to show you what he was working on before he was pulled off the council. It looks like he bloody left though. " He grumbled. " The prat. "

" Eyebrows "

A female voice entered the room, addressing the emerald eyed male. Arthur turned towards the single girl in room. " What is it, Michelle? "

" You're sitting on him. "

The green eyed Briton frowned at the remark, his attention diverting downwards at the supposed cushion he was seated on. Lifting the blanket, his scowl deepened at the revealing of a very blond,very alive and very unconcious Frenchman on the floor. Arthur stared at the teen, confused, looking up at his fellow student council members for answers. Gilbert shook his head, shrugging. " Beats me. You were already here when I got here. "

Arthur turned to Kiku, spotting the small, characteristic smile plastered on the Japanese male's face. " You know, don't you Kiku. " The Briton, stared at the shorter male, eyes narrowed in suspicion while Kiku just continued to smile, procuring a video camera from beside him. He handed it to Arthur, switching it on and turning the screen so the European could see. Francis and Arthur appeared clearly on the screen.

* * *

_" I said let me go, you bloody Frog! "'_

_Francis swung the door open, dragging a struggling Arthur behind him by _the_ collar. " Arthur, _mon cher._ You told me that you must be at the school at six_ dans le matin. Et moi,_ being the good friend I am, decided to drive you. Be grateful and stop struggling,_ oui?_ "_

_The Briton became silent for a moment, glaring up at his captor before swinging his arm upwards between the Frenchman's legs, forcing his release. " Shut the bloody fuck up, Francis! I'm too bloody tired! " Standing up from the floor, Arthur dragged himself to the couch, plopping down into the soft cushions. Francis was crouched on the floor, cupping his family jewels. " A-Arthur..._..Tu es cruelle.._."_

_Closing his eyes, Arthur ignored the Frenchman's pained voice. " I told you to belt up...your fault for dragging me out of bed...didn't even bother to make me tea..."_

_Francis staggered upwards, limping towards the Briton. " I tried to wake you up for an hour, _sourcils_! You did not wake up! So I did what I had to do! "_

_Arthur peeked at the Frenchman sleepily from the sofa. " Just belt up and let me sleep! " _

_Francis frowned at the response, grabbing the Briton on the shoulder. " Art-"_

_" I **said** belt the fuck up! " Swing his arm, Arthur inadvertently smashed his fist square in Francis' face. The Frenchman dropped to the floor as the green eyed male yawned, glancing at the blond now on the floor. He reached blindly for a blanket at the end of the sofa. " Hmph. See? You're bleeding tired too. " Arthur threw the blanket over Francis, rolling his eyes sarcastically even in his tired state. " And me, being the gentleman I am, decided to give you a blanket. Be grateful and shut up, yes? "_

* * *

Gilbert shook his head, staring at his British friend. " Man, your evil. "Arthur just stared at the video recorder for a moment before scratching his head. " Hm. So that's what happened. "

Staggering upwards off the Frenchman, Arthur took a moment to compose himself before swinging his foot into the other male's stomach, resulting in a groan. A single eyelid fluttered open as Francis peeked at his surroundings, glowering at the Briton. " You are never going to get married being so violent, _mon ami. "_

Arthur just shrugged in response, pulling the long haired blond upwards. " Never said I wanted to get married, git. " He gestured to the wavy haired blond in the room. " Since you're here, show Matthew some of the student council work to get him started. We're using this room, so you can use a classroom. All of them should still be empty. " The Briton turned to Michelle. " Go with the Frog ad keep him distracted if he tries to grope the new vice. " He smirked. "You should have no problem with it right? "

Glaring at the Briton, Michelle turned a nice shade of pink, standing up. " Are you implying something sexist with that statement, eyebrows ? ! "

Arthur just looked away, shrugging. " It depends on how you bloody interpret it, _pigtails. "_

Curling her fists to her side, the dark haired girl's scowl deepened. " Why don't you just d-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Francis stood up, taking Michelle by the hand amd leading her away. " My, my. A lady must not allow such profanities leave her mouth. _Mon cher amour. _" He gestured to Matthew to follow, ignoring the noise behind him as Gilbert called after him. " No groping, Birdie, Beardo! I told you I called dibs! "

Glancing behind him, Francis just shrugged suggestively, causing the albino to frown. " Tch. I'm gonna fucking kill that guy if he gropes him. "

* * *

Alfred stood at his spot by the door, feeling very much ignored by the current situation. With Francis, Michelle and Matthew gone, the remaining members of the student council had settled themselves on the sofa and were about to resume their horror movie, lest the Hero stop them.

" H-hey, you guys! What're ya doin' ? ! "

The American shuffled near the sofa, his breath catching as the sandy blond's finger froze on the play button on the remote. Turning towards the American, Arthur bored his emerald orbs into the other male. " Why are you still here, Jones? "

Alfred grinned, unperturbed by the other male's bored tone. " Just wonderin' what you were doin' ! I mean, it's really early and you guys are watching movies! That's kinda weird, ain't it? "

Arthur remained silent for a moment before diverting his attention back onto the television. " We're studying them. "

Relieved that he received some sort of response, Alfred took another step forward, more confident than before. " Why're you guys studying horror movies? I mean, it's just really weird. "

Rolling his eyes, the sandy blond glanced back at the American. " I applaud your wide vocabulary, Jones. You just used the word ' weird' twice. " He sighed. " It' s Halloween next week. We have to plan an event, therefore we are studying what you Americans find entertaining. Pathetic, really. All these movies seem to have the same type of ending. "

Alfred straightened himself out in protest at the remark. " Hey! That's not true! Hollywood movies are awesome! They're way better than those British ones that always have those ghosts and shit! "

Arthur scowled back at the American. " Care to test that theory, Jones? You looked terrified just by walking into the bloody room with the movie on. " He scoffed. " You even went so far as to call me a bloody witch. I highly doubt that you can handle watching a single movie. "

Puffing his chest out confidently, Alfred took the Briton's challenge. " I can too handle it! 'Cause I-"

The emerald eyed male's finger descended onto the play button, causing a shrill, female scream to erupt into the room. Alfred winced, eyes widening.

" HOLY FUCK SOMEONE'S DYING! ", the blue eyed male wailed, diving towards the sofa , and into the arms of the closest person to him. He shivered for a moment in horror, hugging the person closer and feeling the other male's build. It was very similar to Arthur's, though not quite.

" Dude. I know I'm awesome and all. And I swing both ways but I am **definitely not **gay for _you. "_

Shit.

Alfred pushed himself away, taking a look at whose lap he was actually sitting on. A pair of amused crimson orbs looked down at him. " Yo! "

Paling slight at what he'd just done, the American propelled himself off, straght off the sofa and onto the floor. Arthur just sighed, gazing down at the blue eyed male. " So you can handle it, huh? " He closed his eyes, sighing. " Is this what you call 'handling it', Jones? Pathetic. "

Shooting up in his defence, Alfred pouted at the other male, frowning. " Hey! I can handle it! Anyways, you're not being fair! Even if I don't like horror movies, that doesn't mean I'm not super awesome! I-I mean, _you _don't like eating vegetables! You were whining and crying the other day just cause I made you eat your veggies and got your cake squished! "

Arthur twitched at the comment, his face falling dangerously as Kiku and Gilbert chuckled. " Man! You've known him for a week and you already found that out? That's some awesome skills you got there golden boy! "

Alfred grinned at the compliment, continuing his rant. " And Feliks told me he'd send me that photo of you in drag! He's gonna email it to me once he finds it! "

Gilbert's chuckle morphed into a full on laugh. " Shit! Feliks has pictures of Arthur in girl clothes ? ! I didn't know he took any! I thought Kiku was the only one who took them all! "

Focusing his dark aura onto the Albino, Arthur elbowed the other male's side, glowering. " Sod off! If the picture has me dressed like a bloody woman then you're more than likely in it as well, dressed in that maid outfit he made you wear! It was your fucking fault that we even had to wear it in the first place! Why the bloody hell did you go and call him a transvestite? ! "

" Dude. That was eighth grade. I pretty much insulted everyone I saw." He smirked. " Anyways, you laughed, so you can't blame me! "

Ignoring the red eyed male and turning back to American, Arthur pointed a finger threateningly. "And you, Jones. Mind your own bloody business unless you want me to castrate you.  
"

Alfred just looked down at the smaller male, defiantly. " No way! You can't hit me! Mei-  
"

" Hiding behind a bloody woman, Jones? " The Briton smirked up challengingly at the American, though the moment was ruined with a certain German's interruption. " Hiding behind Mei is like the best choice there is. I mean, that chick's like a tank. Try to attack and she will dish out corporal punishment on your ass. "

Alfred tilted his head towards the Albino, confused. " Corporal punishment ?"

" Yeah. She's got this wooden ruler in her desk that really hurts! In eighth grade, Arthur called her a bitch and she beat his ass raw. I was there, so I got hit too. But the ruler snapped in half when it was my turn. I mean, my ass was _tight. _I broke it with my awesomeness._ "_ He frowned. " She bought a new one though. Probably why Arthur's so nice to her now. "

The golden haired blond nodded slowly. " So, what's with eighth grade? "

Gilbert answered, grinning. " Eighth grade was awesome. It was before Arthur got this-"

" Gilbert - san." Interrupting the white haired male, Kiku sent a stern expression at the other male. " Don't. "

The Albino glanced at his Japanese companion, smirk falling. " Eyebrows isn't saying anything. So it's fine. Right? Arthur? "

Turning towards the Brit, Gilbert awaited an answer. Arthur stood up from the sofa, answering as he made his way towards the exit. " I don't bloody care. Do what you want. "

Watching as the sandy haired blond exited the room, the white haired male leaned back into the couch, staring at the empty doorway. He sighed. " ' I don' care', huh? Hmph. What a liar. "

" Hey! What are you talking about? Why'd Arthur leave? "

Alfred urged the other male to continue his talk, curious and confused to what had just happened. Kiku seemed slightly tense in the situation, a warning aura forming around him that was completely directed towards the Albino. Gilbert brushed it off, continuing his story.

" Eighth grade was before eyebrows got a girlfriend. Some French chick around the same age as Francis."

Frowning slightly, the blue eyed male felt slightly worried at the new piece of information. " A girlfriend? So he's not- "

" -gay ? " Gilbert finished the American's question, continuing his story. " Dunno. He never seems to mind when I get him to watch all guy porn vids with me. So, I gotta say he might go both ways. " He leaned farther back into the cushions of the sofa, closing his eyes. He reopened them, stealing a glance at the Japanese male. Kiku was wearing a solemn expression, listening to the German speak as well. " Oi, Kiku. Arthur said it was fine right? Stop looking so scary! Not awesome for you face."

" Hey. So, are they still dating? ", Alfred asked, his face a picture of genuine interest.

Gilbert answered smoothly. " Nope. You don't have to worry about them getting back together either. " He glanced at the empty doorway again. " She's dead. "

* * *

**So, uhh...Arthur's past begins to be revealed. Dun dun duhhhh. One of the reasons I haven't rated this as humour. I know Alfred's still kinda a douche, but he'll get more likeable as the chapters go by. Promise. So please don't egg my house. Really. Oh, and just as a warning, this fic might get a little long 'cause I plan on developing the plot a bit. Hope you guys don't mind. Heh, heh. I'm gonna be going to band camp for a few days . Yay, for me! I wanted to update this before I left so the chapter might be a little short. Probably why it's not the best, either. Sorry 'bout that. I'll be working on the next chappie at camp though! Bye for now! I'll be hoping that camp doesn't turn out like that one American pie movie, cause that'd be weird.**


	8. The addition of 2 plus 2 players

" She's dead. "

By the end of the two words, silence had already engulfed the room, nothing but the quiet static of the television making it's way into the small space. The words, despite being so few, held a sense of finality to its tone, forcing the American to remain silent, unsure if he should speak. Despite his lack of ability to read the atmosphere, he could sense that the German was over-crossing his boundaries by speaking, and from the expression on Kiku's face, the blond knew he was right.

"Gilbert-san. Please have some respect." Speaking authoritatively, the Japanese male directed a fearsome glare at his German counterpart, face livid. Patience was the only virtue strong enough to keep the dark eyed male from lunging at the other, easily seen by his clenched fists and the anger in the male's black orbs. Gilbert, despite spotting the suppressed fury, laughed, leaning back into the sofa as if relaxing. " Why, Kiku? Everyone's done mourning for someone who's been six feet under for the last four years. It won't make any difference if one more person finds out who she is."

Clenching his fist tighter, Kiku's scowl flared as he stepped forward, closer to the other male, his polite demeanour fading with every step. " You-"

Before the Japanese male could complete his outburst, Gilbert cut back in, turning his attention to the American. " Hey. Golden boy."

Twitching, Alfred grinned nervously at being addressed. For once in his life, he wished that the attention wasn't on him. " Yeah? What'd ya need? " The words came out a little higher than usual, most likely out of fear of the two other males in the room. To see the Japanese male look so livid was disturbingly frightening, and the smile that seemed plastered on the Albino's face was nerve wreaking in it's own right. The fact that he was a Hero was feet from carrying him out the room. Because, after all, Heroes don't run away.

"You want to know, right? About Arthur. "

Stiffening slightly at the question, Alfred scratched at the nape of his neck, grinning nervously. " Um...well, uh...sure..I wanna know and all...but...it's not really something I should ask..." He paused. "...is it?"

Instead of answering the question, Gilbert merely leaned back further into the sofa, resting his chin in one hand while staring at the American. It took a moment before he finally responded, smirking. " Awesome answer, brat. Looks like the Hero might have some common sense after all."

The blue eyed male's grin fell slightly, causing his expression to turn lopsided as he continued to look at the Albino in confusion. "What?"

Once again leaving the question unanswered, the pale haired albino staggered up to his feet, making his way towards the blond and staring up at taller male grinning. " Like I said, awesome answer. I was expecting something like ' It's not my problem' but, it looks like you've got some morals in you after all. " Placing a hand to his chin contemplatively and taking on a Sherlock Holmes expression, Gilbert examined the other male for one final second before throwing his arms up in the air and clasping both hand on the American's shoulders, laughing. " Alright! ! Looks like you've gained an awesome ally for this game of yours, golden boy! "

Alfred's confusion rose another level at the statement as he continued to stare dumbfounded at the albino. " ...say what?"

Sighing at the American's stupidity, Gilbert took a step backwards, his hands falling on his hips as he began to strike his awesome pose, a smirk falling on his lips. " KESESESESE! The Awesome me has graced you with his assistance! Bow down to my awesomeness, peon!" The German remained in the pose for several seconds, eyes closed as if basking in praise before frowning down at the American. " Dude. I mean it. Bow."

Shifting back ever so slightly, Alfred's expression of ' like hell am I gonna do that' gave the other male all the answers he needed to drop the pose dejectedly. " C'mon! Not even a ' Gilbert you're so awesome?' or ' I'm so happy that your awesomeship is on my side?' " He sighed once more. " Even a ' I'm nothing compared to your awesomeness' would do!" Glancing up at the American's ' hell to the no' , the German pouted. " Really? Nothing?" Another sigh left the Albino's lips at the blue eyed male's unchanging expression. " Fine! Don't acknowledge my awesomeness! "

Taking a moment to stretch himself out, Gilbert inhaled deeply, recovering from his previous dejection. " No matter! The awesome me is still awesome no matter what! " He nodded to affirm his own statement. "YEAH!"

Moving forward towards the American, the albino stretched his arms out in front of him, pushing the blue eyed male out the door. " Kesesesese~ Well then! Now that you know you've got an awesome knight by your side, why don't you go comfort the princess? You should thank the awesome me for giving you an awesome chance for scoring brownie points!" Sliding the door shut, the pale haired German left the confused male outside the room, waiting several moments after, until the sound of retreating footsteps no longer became audible. He pressed his hands tightly against the wooden door, forcing a smile on his face as he turned behind him towards the livid Japanese male. " Kesesesese! Heeeyyy, Kiku! I just came up with an awesome plan! You wanna hear it?"

The black eyed male responded with a glare, releasing an equally powerful aura that threatened to domineer the other. " Gilbert. Do you understand what you just did? " Flinching back, the Albino paled at the other male's drop of honorifics. The Japanese male wasn't the type to lose his politeness.

Except in extreme anger.

Taking a step backwards, Gilbert pressed his back against the cold door, inhaling a deep breath as he grinned nervously.

" Let me explain? "

* * *

Alfred F. Jones was confused as hell. And not to mention lost. The moment the student council room door closed on him, he had left, his mind questioning 'what the fuck?' repeatedly in his brain. Wandering aimlessly down the empty halls of Hetalia academy, the American slowly ran  
through the two things that he had learned in the short conversation with the albino. One was that he'd had gained a sidekick. A Hero always needed a sidekick to make himself even more awesome and Hero-like. And two...

Arthur Kirkland had a girlfriend that he had loved. And she was dead.

Crouching down, the American pouted, putting his hands around his head and muttering to himself. " Well, fuck. " To say that the blue eyed teen was oblivious was an obvious given fact. But, even so, he wasn't stupid. He knew which lines he shouldn't cross, and at the moment, he knew that by insensitively declaring to the Brit that he'd make him fall in love with him, as a spur of the moment, he had unknowingly crossed one. And now, he felt like an asshole. An unheroic one at that too. Taking a deep breath, the golden haired blond staggered upwards, dragging himself towards wherever a certain eyebrowed teen may be, and take whatever chance he had to redeem himself as a hero.

* * *

" Y'know, Kiku, it's really great that you're staring at the awesome me so hotly, but, it's starting to get a little scary now..."

Backing up against the student council wall, Gilbert Beilschimdt was in the midst of facing death.

Death in the form of Kiku Honda.

At the moment, the Japanese male was beyond livid, though if not for the dark aura surrounding him and the rage swirling in the teen's black orbs it would have been next to impossible to tell. " C'mon, Kiku...hear me out...I came up with this awesome plan!"

Stepping forward, the black haired male ignored all attempts the German had to quell his anger. " Gilbert. Do you have any idea what you have just done? " Repeating his previous question, Kiku took another step forward, cornering the albino against the wall and looking down on him, despite their large differences in height. Even with the nervous expression that had found it's way onto Gilbert's face, the smaller teen refused to reveal even an ounce of mercy, his anger only deepening further at the other's answer,

" I...just helped a fellow bro out?"

Adding a weak 'kesese' to the end of his response, Gilbert's hand slowly inched towards the doorknob to his right, attempting to make one last move to escape his execution. But, just as he was about to reach it, the albino felt his hand jerk away as Kiku grabbed him by the collar, yanking him closer so that both male's were staring eye to eye. The black haired male's usually calm deposition had completely disappeared, replaced by pure protectiveness over his long time British friend. " I will not allow you to leave until you fully explain your actions! You know full well the consequences of mentioning that woman in front of Arthur-san!" He tightened his grip on the German's collar. " He is still sensitive over that subject! Have some respect! "

Gilbert loosened slightly at the Asian male's words, his nervous facade dropping. " Sensitive? Aren't you babying him a little too much there Kiku? " Snatching his collar back and releasing himself from the other male's hold, the German teen stood straight, meeting the other's gaze. " It's been four fucking years, Kiku! He needs to get over it already and stop sulking every time someone even mentions the word ' Jeanne' in front of him!"

The Japanese male stood his ground at the statement, throwing back his own argument. " That is no excuse to tell a foolish and shallow _child _of personal matters that do not concern him! That boy is -"

" an idiot?" Interrupting the other male, Gilbert sighed loudly, running a hand through his pale hair. " That's exactly my fucking point, Kiku! Golden boy is an idiot, but Eyebrows was the one who accepted that 'love' game of theirs! So, isn't he just as bad ?"

Confusion flashed through the Asian teen's face for a moment as he furrowed his eyebrows, ready to send back another retort, but, once again, he was interrupted.

" My point is..." Pausing for a moment, Gilbert swaggered backwards, dropping onto the sofa and meeting the other male's gaze once more. " ..that this 'game' that their playing isn't one sided! If Golden boy can try to get Eyebrows to fall in love with him, then no one would be against him falling for Eyebrows, right?"

Kiku raised an eyebrow at idea, placing his hand to his chin, genuinely intrigued though his anger hadn't died down in the least. His eyes went downcast for a moment as he contemplated the idea. After the moment was done, he looked up, giving his response. " That is still no reason to reveal Arthur's past to Jones – san."

Relaxing at the Japanese teen's resumption of honorifics, the Albino grinned, continuing to explain. " Arthur won't trust anyone who doesn't know anything about him that easily. And as long as he keeps keeps up the image of evil tyrant, I doubt that Golden boy will fall for him easily. Telling him will soften up the both of them, right?" Gilbert sighed momentarily, smirk lighting up his features. " Told you I had an awesome plan! It would've been a lot easier if you'd just let me explain first instead of blowing up like that, though!"

Instead of answering, the black orbed male remained in thought, voicing his concerns. " But, if this were to fail...the consequences..."

Rising up off the couch, Gilbert responded with a confident grin. " Kesesesese! As long as no one gets in our way there's no way my awesome plan is going to fail. " Grin widening, the albino let out a small laugh. " I bet those two would never expect that there'd be two more players to this game of theirs!"

* * *

Pacing down the hallway, Alfred F. Jones gazed in all directions, still searching for the emerald eyed male despite the fact that the dull sound of his footsteps were no longer alone. Students were beginning to trickle into the building, filling the hallways slowly with sound. Even with his long, half hour arduous search, not even a single flash of the a certain combination of blond and green could be found. But, of course, Alfred F. Jones was a Hero. And Heroes did not give up. Although, in all fairness, Heroes were still allowed to get pissed. Not to mention irritated. Mad. Impatient. And, of course, extremely vocal about their thoughts.

" ARTHUR. KIRKLAND. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE SO I CAN BE YOUR HERO ALREADY! "

Breaking into a sprint and ignoring all the not thick eyebrows raised as he stumbled down the hallway, the American hollered out a single British name, confident that he was awesome enough to annoy a certain Brit out of hiding. And, after a good quarter hour of shrieking, he was right.

" Jones. Please do me a bloody favour and just shut the fucking hell up. "

Appearing from behind, the emerald eyed male made his presence known, an expression of irritation forming on his face. His expression deepened further at the sight of Alfred's shit eating grin.

" Arrrtieeee!" Trodding closer towards the Briton until both male's were face to face, Alfred continued to smile his child-like grin, his face expressing the excitement of finally finding the other. " Ah ha ha! I knew I'd find you! There's no way anyone could avoid me forever! They just can't resist the awesome Hero! ".

Arthur's eyes narrowed at the American's blatant arrogance as he stared straight at the other's blue orbs, his own eyes dark and unreadable. " What the bloody hell do you want, Jones? If you have something to say, I'd prefer if you don't say it so bleeding loud. "

Unwavered by the Briton's sour mood, Alfred continued to speak, though his volume lowered a notch as he remembered the first reason to why he was even searching for the Brit. So, scratching the back of his head, the azure eyed male grinned sheepishly, giving the Brit a one over. " I came to be your HERO! ' Cause Gilbert started being an asshole and making you cry! " The American's grin faltered at his own words as he noted the other's dry eyes, free from any tears. Arthur just sighed outwardly, gazing at the blue eyed male as if he were an irritating pest. " Who's crying? ", he asked, rubbing his forehead to ward off an approaching head ache. It didn't take long for the other male to answer, grin returning confidently. " You, of course! " What was once sigh previously, morphed into a groan as Arthur shook his head at the taller teen, his hands moving outward to rub at his temples. " Do I look like I'm crying to you, Jones? "

Alfred squinted at the Brit in response, scrutinizing the other's face. His face broke into a smile. " Yeah! Accordin' to my Awesome Hero Vision, you are!" Stepping a single step backwards, the American patted a hand to his chest, looking proud of himself. " My Awesome Hero vision is never wrong! I can see it! You're cryin' on the inside! "

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows slightly after hearing the other male's words, though more in surprise than annoyance. He made a move to speak. " Wha-"

" OKAY! I, The Awesome Hero, gives you permission to cry in his manly bosom!" Cutting the shorter male off, Alfred threw his arms out, gesturing for the other male to jump into the hug. With closed eyes, he continued to await the Brit's hug, patiently waiting despite the slow seconds that ticked by in silence. Arthur was probably just too embarrassed to jump in his arms right away. After all, the Briton could be cute sometimes. It was only when he heard a certain Italian's voice did he snap out of his stupor.

" What the hell is that bastard doing? Is he retarded? "

Another voice entered in response to the first. "Ah ha ha! Lovi~ It's not nice to say those things~"

Flickering his eyelids back up, Alfred opened his eyes to a semi-full hall way, though, once again, it was void of scraggly blond hair and emerald green eyes. " Damn it! I lost 'im again! " Dropping his spread out arms, the sunny blond glanced in all directions, searching for the shot of blond hair. Luckily, not much time had passed since he had first closed his eyes, and, because of his Awesome Hero vision, he could easily spot the blond at the end of the hallway.

" ARRRTIIIEEEE! I SEE YOOOOU! "

Breaking into a sprint, Alfred dashed towards the blond, who in turn sped up his pace, glancing back only to send a look of scorn and still managing to upkeep his air of calm and superiority. But, no matter what, Alfred refused to let the Brit go a second time. " AR-TIE! I'm gonna get ya! " Breaking into a sprint, Alfred lunged, making a move to tackle the Brit, still screaming the other's name. Had Arthur been a still target, the American would have undoubtedly caught him.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't.

With the propulsion of the lunge weakening, Alfred stopped an inch short across of the green eyed male, falling to the floor and landing dead on his face. He remained there for several seconds, face planted on the hard laminate surface, allowing the Brit a moments time to primly brush himself off and begin to walk away.

" ARTIE!"

Shooting his arm out, Alfred clasped an arm around the Briton's ankle, cutting off any attempt to escape. This move, if examined closely, could have been seen as an unheroic act, but, at the moment, with nothing on his mind except for capturing the sandy blond, Alfred F. Jones couldn't care less.

" I'm not gonna let ya get away this time, Artie! "

Tightening his grip, Alfred held fast despite the struggle that Arthur put up, even going so far as to plant his foot on the American's cheek. The blue eyed teen fought stubbornly against the foot, barely finding an opening in the face attack to glance up at the Briton's now utterly irritated face. He managed to let a few words out, narrowly avoiding Arthur's other foot as it swung towards his cheek.

" Artie, c'mon! I just wanna talk to ya! "

The Briton responded with a face splitting scowl, staring down at theAmerican with a mixture o f scorn and annoyance. " You just bleeding talked to me And your voice was pissing me the bloody fuck off!" Aggressively tearing his ankle away from the other blond's hold, Arthur planted both his feet on the floor - a few inches from the American's fallen form – and stared down on him with an expression of anger before once more moving to stride away.

" Artie, wait! Stop acting like you've got a stick up your ass! " Rising up, Alfred made another grab for the smaller male's ankle, though his second attempt wasn't as successful as the first. Fortunately – or unfortunately – his attempt didn't go unnoticed as Arthur spun around, grabbing the larger male by the collar and pulling him towards him aggressively. " Then stop acting like you're so sodding familiar with me! Enough with the fucking ' Artie' " He released his grip, turning back once more. " Bloody American. "

Fully erecting himself from the ground, Alfred made another grab for the Brit, stubbornly refusing to let him escape. His hand closed around Arthur's wrist as he tugged the teen towards them, forcing them – just as Arthur had previously did – to look eye to eye. The American's face held a frown that matched the Briton's frown "Why're you so mad? I just wanted to apologize! " His expression deepened. " But you won't let me! "

One side of Arthur's face twitched at the blue eyed male's words as he stared at the other, a sneering smile crawling onto his expression. " Apologize? You mean telling me to jump into your 'manly bosom'?" Arthur's voice was laced in sarcasm at his own reiteration of the American's statement causing the blue eyed male himself to furrow his own eyebrows in growing annoyance. He clutched at the smaller male's wrist, unnoticing how the green eyed male twitched in slight pain at the increasing pressure on his limb. " I was trying to be nice and comfort you! You don't have to be mean to me! " He tightened his grip further. " I was going to say I'm sorry after! Why'd you always got to be mad at me all the time? !" Keeping on his face to face glare, Alfred couldn't help but feel a small pang of smugness in his chest at the Briton's surprised expression. It only lasted a moment, but that single moment was all the American needed to know that his words reached the other, even only slightly. But, like all moments, it disappeared quickly, a neutral expression setting in onto Arthur's face.

"What the hell are you say? Me? Mad? How in bloody hell would you get that idea? "

Uttering the questions softly, Arthur's just neutral expression suddenly morphed into a smile as he lightly pulled his wrist away from the larger male' shold, who had now flinched back slightly at the emerald eyed male's sudden change of expression and tone. A group of student;s were beginning to form around them, curious of the disturbance. As the student council president, it was Arthur's duty to remain calm in all situations and demonstrate what it meant to be an ideal student. No matter how angry and irritated he was, he always had to act like the perfect role model. It was his job. No matter how fake it was. And so, continuing to smile, Arthur hoped that the American would read the message for once and not make a scene. He already had to go through the trouble of explaining the cafeteria confession incident to the principal as to keep the rumours from damaging both their reputations. Not that he'd expected any thanks of course. But, as he expected, the American was blind to any sort of atmosphere, though his reaction was not anything he expected.

" Stop smiling. "

Barely registering the crowd around them, Alfred could do nothing but stare at the plastered smile on the sandy blond male's face, his own expression forced into a frown. He had been in the modelling business long enough to know that the smile in front of him wasn't real. Wasn't genuine.

And he hated it.

Arthur's smile held no sense of happiness. Not even a slight bit of amusement. It was just empty. Just there.

And Alfred F. Jones wanted it gone.

So,leaning over towards the smaller male, he placed his face over the other's, descending further downwards until lips were on lips. Alfred smiled slightly in satisfaction as he felt the other's own smile fell, allowing him to deepen his mouth invasion even further. Arthur seemed to have frozen at the touch, giving the American, a chance to put his hand on the back of the smaller male's neck and pull him closer. He relished in the lingering taste of Earl grey tea as he continued to enjoy the warmth of Arthur's mouth, swirling his tongue against the other's own slippery muscle. When he finally ran out of air after a good few seconds, he released the kiss, pulling back from the Briton, innocently staring at the swollen lips.

" Ah. That smile's gone. " Grinning widely, Alfred finally began to note his surroundings, the crowd and Arthur's expression of blank shock. He smiled absently at the group of students all who seemed almost equally stunned at the incident that had just occured. Many them began to disperse, awkwardly stumbling in whichever direction they were heading previously, mentally deciding to leave the two males alone. The movement of people seemed to be what snapped the Brit out of his stupor as he touched his lips slowly , still registering what had just happened to them. Alfred turned his attention back to the green eyed male,grinning, a sort of expectation glitteringin his eyes. " Awesome, huh ? ! "

Heroic or not, after the fake smile, he wanted to see another one of the Brit's expressions, a flustered one espescially. It was the expression that he expected, though unfortunately, not one that he got. Staring at his arm for a split second, Arthur thrust it towards his own face, violently rubbing away at his lips and ignoring the American's dropped smile.

" Hey! Don't do that! ", Alfred pouted at the smaller male's actions, hurt that the Briton was so desperate to wipe away their kiss. Arthur though,was no longer in any mood for games. Someone needed to die. And it wasn't him.

" Jones. Explain bloody well to me. What the bleeding fuck did you do? "

Speaking through clenched teeth, Arthur could only do his utmost to keep his temper in check. But, even so, Alfred continued to play with his patience.

" I just kissed you. No, _**duh**_! " Rolling his eyes, Alfred snorted. " But, maybe you're too uptight to know what a kiss is, huh?"

Arrogant persona resurfacing, Alfred inwardly grinned at the Briton's enraged expression. Unbeknownst to all but himself, Alfred F. Jones had made a resolution. Whether it was out of curiousity or something else was still unknown. All he was that he wanted to make the other teen smile. Genuinely. And not just smile. The blue eyed teen wanted to see other expressions as well, though, for now, he'd settle for anger.

" Do you have a death wish, Jones? "

Arthur was beginning to breath hard, his face a mixture of anger and something else. Embarrassment, most likely. Alfred decided that the Brit only needed one last push before he burst. " Naw, but I do got a wish, though." He winked suggestively, licking his lips. " I'll give you a clue though, since I'm awesome. It's got somethin' to do with me and those gorgeous lips of yours. " He ended with a play boy smirk. " You got me, baby? " Clicking his teeth and waggling his eyebrows, Alfred took a step backwards, attempting to back out of the hallway, which was now empty, a result of a certain Hungarian declaring behind the scenes that the two of them needed space for themselves .

It was the perfect place for Arthur to commit murder. Perfect role model be damned. Swinging his arm back, Arthur propelled his fist forward into Alfred's stomach, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he missed the larger male's solar plexus, narrowly avoiding a punch of absolute pain. Alfred groaned, bending over, surprised that he still had the strength to stay on his feet. He braced himself for a rebound, knowing that his torture couldn't possibly be over, but, surprisingly, the second coming of pain never arrived. Glancing up, the American was shocked to see that insteadof a fist, his eyes met with Arthur's back, as the Brit walked away from the scene of the crime. He smiled though, as the Brit glanced back only for a moment, his face a blazing shade of red, the anger wiped from his face, replaced by a flustered frown.

It was all the American needed to know that his actions were worth it.

* * *

Striding down the corridor, Arthur swallowed deeply, wiping at his face for what could have been the twentieth time in the last two minutes. The American's action's had indeed shocked him deeply, he couldn't lie. Nor could he say that the kiss_ completely_ disgusted him. But still. Bloody hell.

Staggering into an empty room, Arthur clutched at his head. Not even the beginning of the first class, and already he wanted to go home. Shutting the doorbehind him, Arthur rubbed his cheeks viciously, hoping that it was only his rubbing and his rubbing alone that was making his cheeks feel hot. Sighing once more, he slid down to the floor, trying not to think too much about the last event. It would be a godsend if he ,along with anyone else who witnessed the scene, could forget about the last hour. But, behind the shut door though, unknown to the British male, two teens came out of hiding, having witnessed the morning's event. Two male's, both cursed with almost equally thick eyebrows as Arthur, one tanned with spiky brown hair, and the other a slighter Asian with a seemingly permanent neutral expression on his face.

" Well, mate. I suppose that was worth being late for the council meeting today, yeah? "

The tanned male spoke, revealing an Australian accent and receiving only a nod and a one word answer from other male. " Sure."

The Australian though, was unperturbed by the lack of reaction. " Well, that was really interesting. Mum there didn't look as mad as I thought he would. Gone soft a lil bit,maybe. " He strode downthe hall, poking the bandage at his nose and popping a honey flavoured hard candy in his mouth. " Guess we should go and ask Gilbert and the others what's going on. Sure sounds interesting though ." The Aussie glanced at his Asian friend, who was now fiddling with a mini fire cracker in his hand. " What'd you think? "

Quickly lighting the fire cracker, the Asian teen tossed it out the window, watching it spark all the way down. Once again, he answered with one word.

"Boom."

* * *

**A/N: Well, ummm. It's been a long time. I'M SO SORRY. Urgh. I don't even remember when I last updated. May, I think? I got caught up in exams, then summer came and I got first job! Yay. But then I turned into an idiot and took full time summer classes. While working full time. Then my computer died. Along with half of this chapter. Rewrote the whole thing though! Hopefully, even better than before. Got a new computer now! And now that school started and I only work week ends, I have more free time to write! Eh heh heh! So, forgive this foolish Canadian for her long, sudden hiatus, yes?I'll do my best to not do it again. So. This chapter. What'd ya think? Alfre sort of has allies now.**


	9. A welcome from the anti hero faction

A welcome from the Anti-hero faction

Bounding up Hetalia Academy stairs, a blue eyed American sprung from step to step, the tail of his coat flying behind him like a cape. Surrounding the male, all manners of monsters crossed the halls, their expressions hidden behind fear inducing masks. It was Halloween, All Hallows eve to some, and all the student of Hetalia Academy were enjoying flashing their costumes. Alfred F. Jones especially.

And at that moment in time, Alfred F. Jones was not Alfred F. Jones.

He was THE Cowboy Hero America. And the " The" of that title was not something that was to be ignored.

" Artie!"

Jumping up from the last step, The Cowboy Hero America gracefully landed on the cold floor of the second story, immediately speeding to the direction where the student council room was located. Classes for Halloween were postponed for the event, courtesy of the principal, and the sunny blond was looking forward to spending it with a certain green eyed British blond. A blond that seemed to be standing outside the student council room door, speaking – or arguing – with a brown haired Hungarian.

"Damn it! Can't you behave yourself for even an hour ? ! Stop causing trouble for Roderich!"

Hearing, but not listening to the Hungarian's reprimands, Alfred didn't stop to realize the strangeness of Elizabeta scolding the student council president as he dashed towards the turned male, excitement getting the best of him. Even as he began to sweep the slighter male into a tight embrace, the expression of shock and warning that swept through Elizabeta's face didn't register in the American's one-track mind. That is, until he heard the laugh.

" Kesesesese~ Good morning, golden boy! Kese! Looks like you can't get enough of the awesome me~"

Freezing in his spot, Alfred rigidly pushed the male away from him until the other was at an arms length. The American's eyes swept over the slighter male's appearance, his eye twitching at the sight.

Huge eyebrows. Pasted on.

Green eyes. Colour contacts?

Blond hair. A wig.

" ...Gilbert?"

Releasing the other male, Alfred gave the German another one over as he frowned over what he had done, slightly confused. " Why are you dressed like Arthur?"

" KESESESESE!" Pseudo-Arthur, also known as Gilbert Beilschimdt responded with a laugh, staring at the American and stiffening his posture. " Kesesese! BLOODY HELL! What are you talking about, boy! I'm Eyebrows!" Ducking past Alfred's head, a face splitting grin on his face, Gilbert sped towards the door of the student council, laughing and muttering loud 'bloody hell's' and 'bollocks' the entire way. Alfred looked at Elizabeta for an answer.

" Just go in and look yourself"

Sighing tiredly, Elizabeta dug into her bag, retrieving her camera and walked away in search for any gay couple she could catch, her own costume – a maid one – fluttering in the air. As she walked, she made a mental note to smack Gilbert at their next meeting and to add more photos of Alfred and Arthur together to her collection later.

* * *

Taking the Hungarian female's advice, Alfred headed towards the door in which the student council resided behind. He opened the door slowly, silently thanking God for the sight before him.

Arthur was shirtless.

" Bloody hell, Kiku. How do you put on these blasted things? Stop taking pictures and tell me!"

The stuffy blond haired president was wearing a Japanese yukata – a bath robe in the terms of Alfred's mind – and judging how it fell loosely apart, revealing the Brit's dusted nipples, it seemed that – thankfully- he had troubles with putting it on.

" Just...one moment, Arthur-san. I...just...need a few more pictures...!" Kiku was crouching on the floor, rapidly clicking his camera as his eyes, focused in determination, betrayed his heavy breathing – breathing that revealed utter perversion. " Arthur-san...! Please lean more onto the desk a little! And if you could reveal more of your chest...!"

Not seeming even the slightest bit perturbed by his Asian friend's manner, Arthur didn't bother to respond to the Japanese male's requests. Instead, he gave up trying to wear his costume, allowing it to fall over his shoulders loosely as he turned towards the door. And at the American.

" Why the bleeding hell are you standing at the door there, Jones?"

Directing his attention to the blue eyed male at the door, Arthur raised an eyebrow at the frozen stiff American who was now noting the Brit's wear of a black wig and colour contacts.

" Hi, Artie! Hero's here!"

Alfred raised a stiff hand in a wave, still staring at the other male's chest. He would have most likely continued staring, if not for the irritating laugh the filled the room.

" Kesesese~ Looks like the Hero likes what he sees! Don't 'cha, Golden boy?"

Creaking his head up and down in what could have only been a nod, the American was luckily saved the pain of a fist in his stomach as Arthur turned back to Kiku who – like his fellow student council members – was in costume. Though instead of the black or blond, he was wearing a white wig, accented by ruby red contacts in reflection of the albino, who was now seated on the council room sofa.

" Oi, Kiku! Are you listening to me? "

Raising his head away from his camera, the smaller teen gave a single nod, wiping a droplet of saliva from his chin. " Ah, yes. Arthur-san. Just a moment." Straightening himself up, Kiku made his way over to the student president, arranging his cultural clothing properly over the Brit. It was only when the three student council members were fully clothed in each other's attires, that Arthur, now pseudo-Kiku, nodded satisfied, finally bothering to turn his complete attention onto the American at the door.

" Well, Jones-san. May I ask why you've come to visit?" Speaking formally and Kiku-like, Arthur struggled to maintain a straight face as he attempted to continue his facade as the Japanese male. It was unfortunate that his efforts were destroyed by a curious American.

" Wow! That's so cool! You guys are dressing like each other?"

The effect of seeing Arthur shirtless was beginning to wear off as Alfred, also called The Cowboy Hero America, finally strode into the room, curiously peeking at all three costumes of the currently present council members. At the moment, Arthur equalled Kiku, Gilbert equalled Arthur, and Kiku equalled Gilbert.

" But, hey! If you're gonna dress as Kiku, why're you in a bathrobe? Were ya gonna change after you took a shower? 'Cause that would be pretty stupid if you're gonna wear the wig and stuff now."

Arthur answered the American with a scoff. " This isn't a bathrobe. It's a yukata. And it's the only thing of Kiku's that fit."

Alfred nodded, his face feigning attentiveness. " I see."

Continueing towards the non-German Arthur, Alfred peeked closer at the costume, swaying side to side ever so slightly as if to steal a glance under the other's robe. Despite seeming as if he wasn't paying attention to anything other than the Brit's chest, he waited for an answer, expecting it when Arthur began to speak. He couldn't help but be surprised when he felt something heavy go over his head and everything went dark.

" HEY! The Hell?"

Struggling out of the darkness, Alfred shoved off whatever fuzzy thing that was on his head, and, staring at his prison, he twitched at the sight of grey fur and holes for eyes. It was dismembered Koala head. Not a real one of course. But still. It was a _dismembered koala head_.

" Y'know, staring at mum like that seems kinds gross there, mate. Just saying."

Hearing a male voice from behind, Alfred turned to his perpetrator, coming face to face with green eyes and eyebrows almost equal to Arthur's. Almost. But not quite.

" Hey! Who're you?" Glaring at the newcomer, Alfred frowned, tossing the head of the Koala costume back at the other male. The other male, anAustralian judging from his accent was standing behind the American, smiling contently as he whirled a honey lollipop around his mouth, scratching at the bandage on his nose and giving his candy a hard suck before he introduced himself.

" No need to shout, mate. I was just getting there." Placing the dismembered animal head on the couch by Gilbert, who gave a insignificant fearful glance at the costume, the brown haired Australian sat down lightly on the arm of the couch, still smiling as he introduced himself. " My name's Kyle Kirkland, mate. Better to just call me Kyle, though. Or K.K." Patting the head of the costume beside him fondly, the green eyed Australian plucked the Koala head off the sofa, placing it on his lap. " I'm the sophomore student representative on this council. " He paused. " Mum's cousin there, too, by the way."

* * *

Before Alfred had the chance to add his own statements into the conversation, the Australian, newly named Kyle, began chatting to the entire council, despite only being half listened to.

" Y'know, instead of a Koala, I wanted to dress up like a Mama Kangaroo today, but Xiao didn't want to dress up like a baby and sit in the pouch, he said he'd stick a fire cracker in the costume if I made him. Mate's tough like that, I've got to admit. "

The Australian's voice began to fade into the back as Alfred placed himself beside pseudo-Kiku – Arthur, in another sense – and began to start a conversation, no matter how one sided it was.

" Hey, hey! What'd ya think of my costume? Really awesome, ain't it! Feliks picked it out for me!"

Instead of answering immediately, Arthur gave a short sigh at the annoying noise coming from beside him. He had already resigned himself into letting the American into the student council room, knowing that if he didn't, the door would be the one to suffer the consequences. But still, it annoyed him to interact with someone who seemed to irritate him endlessly. So, examining the costume fleetingly, he sighed once again, commenting on the blue eyed male's attire.

" It's against the school's dress code policy, Jones."

Alfred gave himself a one over, frowning at how being The Cowboy Hero America could be against the rules. Was it just too awesome for everyone?

" How is this against the dress code? ", asking bluntly, Alfred pulled at his Cowboy vest.

Arthur responded equally blunt, not paying full attention to the American as he sat down at his desk, placing his head in one hand. " It looks bloody inappropriate."

Alfred asked once more. " How?"

Instead of Arthur answering the second time, Gilbert piped in a response, his attention turning away from the Aystralian's chatting.

" 'Cause you look like a porn star, golden boy!"

Looking down on himself once more, Alfred denied the claims, blind to the fact that the costume that Feliks had graciously chosen for him had required the American to be shirtless, except for his vest and neck bandana and that the cowboy leggings that he wore split at the middle, revealing his knees and sandy coloured boxers that matched the costume – cleverly chosen by the American's manager as well, most likely to conceal the truth that the costume was indeed originally made for a porn flick.

"I'm The Cowboy Hero America! "

"You're Porn star America, rather." Arthur rebuked the denial, snorting softly and smirking at the American, deigning the idea that the annoying exchanges didn't mainly have to be in the American's favour.

" Oh yeah? Prove it!" Puffing up his semi-naked chest childishly, Alfred remembered the moment in time when Feliks had given him the costume. The Polish male had told him to make anyone who denied the idea that he was a Cowboy Hero to prove their claims, espescially if that person was Arthur . He wondered why. Frowning at the memory, Alfred remembered the sneaky smiles that seemed to plaster themselves on both the Pole's and the Frenchman's – who happened to be there – faces. They were strange. And they made him uncomfortable.

" How in the bleeding hell do you want us to prove that you costume belongs to a porn actor, Jones? "

The Briton had raised a single eyebrow skeptically, looking the American up and down, snorting once more at the sight. It didn't help that the blue eyed male held a childish pose, contradicting his costume even more.

" See? You can't prove it, can ya? " Leering down arrogantly, Alfred puffed his chest out even more, leaning down a bit so that his chest was right beside Arthur's face. The Briton reacted instantly.

Whipping his hand out, the Brit backhanded his right limb at the American's chest, his left arm reaching for a samurai sword – one that was supposed to be part of his costume -that was hidden from sight under his desk. The sword may have plastic, but plastic can hurt.

" Keep that hairy chest to yourself, Jones, if you'd please." Arthur stood up from his chair, pointing the tip of the toy sword at the blue eyed male's neck. But, Alfred, beginning to get used to Arthur's antics refused, stubbornly turning his head. " My chest ain't hairy! It's awesome! You're just mad 'cause you don't got abs and you can't prove that I'm not a Hero!"

Twitching at the sunny blond's audacity, Arthur lowered his sword, scowling now. " Sit."

Alfred lowered his chest. " Say what?"

" Sit." Arthur repeated, pointing to his chair. " If proving to you that you're dressed like a bleeding porn star will shut that mouth of yours, then I'll bloody well show you."

Shoving the American onto the president's chair, Arthur placed the sword on his desk, crossing his arms as he glared at the larger male, giving an order. " Spread your legs."

Alfred spluttered at the forceful request, not trusting his ears. " Wha-?"

" I'm going to show you why that costume isn't bleeding appropriate for school. You're lucky that none of the teachers saw you or they'd have sent you home to get changed. Now hurry up and spread your legs!"

Obeying the student council president, Alfred did what he was told, awkwardly pulling his legs apart. Sure, he's done poses like these in front of camera's before but with someone who was staring at him so hotly it was another experience. So what if that stare was more angry that not?

" So, with that costume, no underwear would have been worn and the entire groin area would been exposed. "

Entering teacher mode, Arthur literally began to explain why costume would be more fit in a porn flick rather than a school setting despite the fact that the closer the Brit got to the American, the less the said American seemed to listen. He only snapped to attention when Arthur began to take his explanation one step further.

Into demonstrations.

Breath hitching, Alfred forgot to exhale as Arthur crawled into his lap, still continuing his explanation.

" During a R-rated scene – with this costume - the heroine, or porn actress, would most likely be in a position similar to this one." He gestured to himself on Alfred's lap, ignoring the snickers from all the other student council members and the camera clicks from Kiku. " It would be in this situation that she would be penetrated, giving the audience excitement by riding the protagonist – the male actor in that case."

Drowning out the explanation, his body flushing in a heat wave, Alfred gave his all to keep his little Alfred under control, even as he came up an ultimatum. Feliks gave him this costume on purpose.

_Thank you Feliks._

" Oi, Jones. You'd better be listening to me!"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Alfred responded quickly. " Yessir!"

Arthur smiled satisfied at the response, beginning to move off the other male's thighs. He would have if it wasn't for the American's grip on his waist.

" Jones? Kindly remove your hands."

Staring down at the other male and at the perverted redness of the American's face, Arthur attempted to tug himself out of the American's hold, the awkwardness of his situation finally dawning on him. Alfred refused to listen, unfortunately.

" One more minute! Just stay there for one more minute"

Alfred was breathing heavily, which seemed to add more to the Brit's anxiousness. The American continued to refuse to release his grip on Arthur's hips, grinning dumbly even as he felt heat come between them. For a moment, he thought it was just him, until he saw Arthur pale, feeling him violently struggle out of his hold. And succeeding by falling off the chair.

" Jones! Hurry and stand up, if you still want to be a man in a few minutes!"

Still high from the previous situation, Alfred stared at the Briton blankly, a sliver of confusion falling from his mind. Just one thing registered to him at the moment. His groin was hot. He looked down.

Fire crackers.

" Oh, shit."

* * *

Shooting upwards, Alfred slapped away at the fire cracker, his crotch narrowly avoiding death by burning as the cracker burst into sparks, fizzling away on the floor. The American swallowed at the prospect of what could have happened if the Brit hadn't called out to him. He continued to stare at the floor as Arthur went after the perpetrator.

" XIAO! How many times do I have to bloody tell you not to play with those inside! Stop being such a bloody prat!"

Turning towards the direction of the Briton's voice, Alfred spotted a dark haired Asian, similar in height and width to Kiku, with eyebrows matching both Arthur's and the Australian's. The Asian, Xiao, only frowned at the scolding, flicking a lock of hair of his face the sleeves of his costume – a ceremonial Chinese robe- falling momentarily over his elbows and revealing a large multitude of hidden firecrackers.

" Che. Just a few more seconds and I would've got him. Stupid president. Don't get in my way."

Xiao flung his sleeves causing a firecracker to fall to his palm, and in one fluid movement he lit it, tossing it to Arthur's feet. The Brit dodged it quickly though, lunging for the younger male and grabbing hold of the skin of his ear, pulling it sharply.

" Ouch! This is abuse, you stupid president!"

Leaving the others to their own devices, Arthur began his tirade of scoldings, the pinch on the Asian male's ear, not loosening on the slightest. Alfred, on the other hand, watched, slightly amused as the Australian came up to him from behind.

" Well, that's mum for you, mate"

Startled by the unexpected voice, the blue eyed male frowned, turning to the green eyed male. He paused, realizing something for the first time. " Hey, why'd you keep calling Arthur 'mum'? Not like he's your mom for real, right? "

The Australian smiled, patting the Koala head that was still in his arms. " No, mate. But, I just said that he was my cousin, yeah? Grew up with him. Guess he's more like a brother but, he really helped out my real mum and dad. Did diapers and everything, even though he was only a year older. So I call him mum. Just for giggles though since I call my real mum the same thing."

Alfred let out a small sigh in what could have been relief at the explanation. He grinned. " So you're just like brothers, right? Just brothers? That's cool!"

Kyle's smile didn't drop the slightest as he buried his head in the fur of his costume. " Guess that's right, there. But y'know, mate, cousins can still get married legally here."

Alfred paused, not catching the Australian's words. " What?"

The green eyed male glanced at the Brit momentarily before returning his sight to the American. " And, y'know mate, there's a lot of things that I can do to him that you can't 'cause he's my cuz."

Smiling, the Australian skipped towards his cousin, whispering one last thing to the other male before he left. " I can do something like this..."

Making his way to his family member, Kyle dipped down towards the Briton – who was still scolding the Chinese male – and planted a small kiss on his cheek, glancing at the blue eyed male in the room for a reaction. He smiled as he saw Alfred frown.

" Oi. What the hell are you doing?"

Turning his attention to the Australian, Arthur frowned, his grip on Xiao's ear still remaining. The brown haired male continued smiling. " Just saying good morning to my lovely mum, here!"

Arthur furrowed him eyebrows, slightly confused at the random show of affection. " Okay. Good morning to you too."

Resuming his scolding, Arthur allowed the Australian to skip back to the American, who's face had now formed a face splitting pout. Alfred was beginning to dislike this guy.

" Well, mate. Let's see you try that without being hit."

The tone in Kyle's voice held a smidgen of amusement and challenge that was comparable to Arthur's, though unlike Arthur's, there was no way in hell that Alfred found it attractive. In fact, he found that it pissed him off quite a bit.

" I can! I bet I can do way better than you anyways!"

Now determined by the Australian's challenge, Alfred stomped towards the Brit, focused on landing a kiss as well. But, the kiss given by the American from days previous had caused Arthur to gain experience against the other. And, seeing the blue eyed male approach from the corner of his eye, he was ready for him. The moment Alfred was in arm's length, he shot out his free arm, landing one karate chop to the stomach and another to the forehead without bothering to break a sweat. Alfred stumbled back, dazed as Gilbert commented in the back ground.

" Arthur Kirkland has just levelled up! Kesesese~"

Pouting, Alfred straightened himself up, confronting the violent male. " Why'd you hit me and not him, that's not fair!"

" Too bad, Jones. As I've said to you before, life's not fair."

Turning to the Asian male one last time, Arthur sighed. " Alright, Xiao? Don't do this again, understand?

The smaller male nodded, though his eyes never met the Brit's. " I won't do it again...I suppose."

Arthur smiled. " What?"

" Nothing...I suppose."

Escaping a second wave of the Briton's wrath, the Chinese male left the room, leaving the others alone.

Finally turning his attention to the American, Arthur eyed the teen's clothes disdainfully once more.

" Oi, Jones. Do you have any clothes other that you're wearing?"

The American responded." Yeah, I've go tons."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. " Here?"

Alfred answered. " No, at home." He paused. " But, I've got my bomber jacket in my locker! It's really awesome!"

Sighing once more, Arthur began to walk to a door in the student council room, revealing a small storage place. " Go get it. It's against school clothes like those. The teachers would reprimand me if they knew I saw you and didn't do anything about it. You either wear something we have here, or you go home." He muttered to himself. " Though I'm not at all opposed to that idea..."

Heading to the door, Alfred pouted." Y'mean I can't be the Cowboy Hero America?"

The Brit answered with one word. " No.

* * *

Retrieving his bomber jacket and pointedly avoiding all the teachers in his path, Alfred returned to the council room, ignoring all the female glances behind him. Arthur had brought in a few boxes out of the storage room, spreading them out and opened to reveal a few costumes. Alfred sat down beside him, picking out a few of them. He laughed when he picked out a naked waiter costume, stretching it out for all to see.

" Hey, what's this? I can wear it, right? Since it's in the box."

Arthur glared at the American, snatching back the costume and throwing it back in the box. " That's mine. Don't touch."

Leafing through a few more costumes, Arthur pulled a sandy brown military type uniform out. He tossed it to the blue eyed male. " Wear this one. It matches you bomber jacket a bit, if you wear it over."

Instead of taking the costume immediately, Alfred placed the uniform on his lap, picking out another prop from the bin.

A rose.

" Hey, is this part of a costume too? I think it'd look cool if I used it with a tuxedo or something!" He placed it in his mouth, waggling his eyebrows and speaking in a low baritone voice. " Hi there. Would you like a dance?"

Pausing, Arthur stared at the rose before snorting and giggling a bit. " That's the costume. Francis used to hang it on his penis."

The rose dropped from the American's mouth as he paled, spitting and rubbing his mouth with his arm. " Why the hell is that in here? I thought all the costumes here were supposed to be PG-13 rated!" Arthur laughed harder.

" These are all costumes we got from Feliks. We never actually wore them at school before." The Brit inhaled deeply, clearing the laughter from his chest. " We've already cleaned them already, so don't worry. You won't catch any of Francis' diseases!"

Taking out three more costumes, green, blue and white, Arthur handed out two to his fellow senior council members, Kiku and Gilbert, leaving the green one to himself. He turned to the American. " Well, hurry up and get changed. I'm sick of seeing you in that bloody costume already"

Obeying, Alfred straightened up, beginning to strip where he stood, and were it not for Arthur, who kicked him from behind, he would have most likely continued.

" In the bathroom, you prat!"

Pouting, Alfred swivelled to stare down at the Brit. "Why? Nothing wrong with me showing off my hot bod to ya! It might make you horn-"

The American didn't even get the chance to finish the sentence as Arthur landed another kick to his behind, forcing the blue eyed male to run out the door. Once Alfred was a good distance away, the Briton took the chance to stagger upwards himself. He turned towards his fellow student council members.

" I'm going to go change too. It's a bleeding pain to wear the wig and contacts all day." He sighed, gesturing to the Japanese clothing. " And the teachers might find this costume inappropriate as well" Departing out the door, Arthur shut it behind him, leaving the three council members alone.

* * *

" Who's side are you on?"

The short silence of the student council room broke as the two senior members, stared at their junior member waiting for an answer. ' I don't know if I should commend you or kill you for the kiss move you pulled back there.|

Gilbert scowled at the green eyed male as Kiku just silently observed the exchange, watching for a moment to intervene. The confronted teen himself just smiled. " I just wanted to see how he'd react, is all. No harm meant, mate."

Kyle placed the Koala head back on the couch. " He doesn't seem half bad, that guy. I don't have any hard feeling against him but Xiao doesn't seem to like him. And he's my best mate so I guess the side I'm on is the anti-hero one. Sorry, mates."

He sat down beside his costume head. " But this sort of makes it fair since the both of you are on the Hero's side." Leaning to the side, onto his costume, the brown haired teen smiled at both his seniors. " Well, Halloween just started, so I guess I'll just see how it goes."

Two voices from behind the door began to make themselves heard in argument as the door knob began to turn. All three members looked at the door while the younger of the group brought in the last statement.

" Well, mates. Let's have some fun."

* * *

**A/N:**

** Yay! I didn't dissappear for long this time! Woo hoo! Okay, I guess you could call this part one of the Halloween chapters! Part two will be coming next and hopefully it'll have more USUK and plot! Urgh, I should be studying for my math exam tommorow. But I'm not. I'll probably look over my notes and do some questions later though, so I don't fail. I'll do it when I get off work tonight, I suppose. Okay! Off to work now! Look forward to my next update! ( ...if you want to...)**


	10. The Witch, Rose Gardener, and Gentleman

** A/N: Okay! III'MMM Baaacckkkk! Carrying with me a chapter with a whopping 8000 + words. God...17 pages. Eh heh heh...It's hard to believe that this chapter almost got deleted off my computer just as I finished it. I went to save it, then I noticed on the bottom that it said I only had one page of work as I closed it. I reopened it though and found out I was wrong and it said that I had 17 pages. BUT THEN. It started to count down. Seriously. It went 17...16...15... and so on. I screamed. But then I checked and all 8000 words were still there. Even though it said I only had one page. Well, enough of me, begin the chapter! I will see you at the bottom. Eh heh. If there is a bottom.**

* * *

Gathered together, the entirety of the student council members converged into a lone room, every single one of them, plus an extra, huddled together to outline the final plan of the school's main Halloween event. Arthur alone stood over his desk, confirming each person's roles as everyone nodded, assured of their respective parts.

" MMM HMM! All right! Got it!" Nodding in affirmation, Alfred leaned into the huddle, drawing the attention of the council's vice president.

" Eh...Alfred...what are you doing here again?"

Matthew glanced at his brother, once again concerned that the American was making a nuisance of himself. Despite being the vice president of the council, it seemed that the blue eyed male spent more time in the room than any of the actual members themselves with the exception of Arthur. He was only present when Arthur was.

" I'm being a Hero, of course! Since I'm awesome, I decided to help you guys out!" Responding to his brother's question, the sunny blond grinned, thrusting a thumb to himself as to emphasize his presence. The gesture was ignored as everyone continued to focus on their plans with Matthew's attention itself sidling back to the Brit as well.

" Well then...that's it. If no one has any questions, the event starts after lunch. You can do anything you want before then."

Concluding his plans, Arthur surveyed the room, running over the faces of his student council members for any uncertainty or questions. He nodded at the sight of none.

"Wait, Artie! I got a question! Me!"

Raising his hand, Alfred waved at the Brit, fishing for attention. He was conveniently ignored as the emerald eyed male leaned into his office chair, relaxing as if the presence of the American was non existent. It only took another push and the action of splaying himself on the desk in front of the student president to attain the desperately sought attention he wanted.

" ...what's your bloody question, Jones?"

Eyeing the larger male in front of him warily, Arthur didn't seem to have the energy to bother with kicking the American out from in front him, even when the named teen looked up at him, obnoxiously stretching on his desk and disorganizing his files.

" What's everyone planning to do?" Grinning, Alfred seemed to enjoy pushing the student president just over the edge of his patience, despite the danger of doing so. The sandy blond sighed at the foolish inquiry that had been answered fully moments before as he had gone over all of the day's plans with his fellow student council members.

" Weren't you listening to anything that was said earlier, Jones? I clearly remember you saying that you 'got it' when I finished."

Alfred shrugged, still wearing the silly grin on his face. " But if I said I didn't, you'd just tell to shut up, right?"

Sighing once more, Arthur kicked off from the desk, launching his office chair into a slow spin as he answered. " Correction. I would have told you to shut _the bloody fuck _up. Or to sod off."

Alfred pouted in response. " Same thing."

" Only if you're an American." Turning his attention to the student council members, Arthur shrugged off the duty of answering the blue eyed male's question to another unfortunate soul. " Matthew! Explain to your brother what's going on, would you? I believe you're the only one here that can speak his language."

Broken from his current conversation with a certain Albino, the blond flinched slightly at being caught off guard though he answered earnestly, glad to be of help. " It's the Halloween festival, eh. It's when the school clubs put up their own events for Halloween." He glanced at Gilbert for a confirmation.

" Yup! We're one of the only schools who's got teachers awesome enough to stop classes for the entire day so everyone can party!"

Rolling around on the desk so he could face both his brother and the red eyed male, Alfred ignored the grunt of irritation coming from the Brit. " So, what're all the clubs doin?"

Finally unable to put up with the increasing mess and the large piece of annoyance on his desk, Arthur swept the entirety of the surface with his arms, clearing it of all garbage. He only answered the American's question when he heard a satisfying fwump signifying something heavy landing on the floor.

" All the clubs are doing a different event. For example, the culinary club is giving out prizes for anyone who could eat the strange concoctions that they made for this day. And the newspaper club is doing horror stories. "

Erecting himself from the ground and pouting, Alfred crawled towards and onto the sofa, brushing the dust from his jacket. " Geez, Artie! Ya didn't have to shove me off! You could've just asked!"

Arthur grumbled, glaring at the American. ' And you wouldn't have listened if I bloody asked, prat." He sighed, moving to pick up the fallen papers from the floor. " Do you understand now, boy?

" Well, yeah. If you put it like that, why not?" The blue eyed male smiled, standing up once more. " So I can do whatever I want around here, right?"

" Correct. As long as you don't get in trouble", Arthur answered, eyeing the other suspiciously. The American seemed too eager to listen to him for his liking. Especially with the grin that was permanently pasted on his face.

" Sooooo~ " Elongating the word longer than necessary, the taller blond contemplated the situation momentarily, his face thoughtful. An expression that was potentially dangerous.

" You're saying that I can do ANYTHING I want, right?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, understanding the direction where the American was going. Still, he asked. " Your point?"

The grin on Alfred's face widened slightly more. " So, if I wanted, I can hang out with you?"

Arthur frowned. " No."

" But, that's what I wanna do. I won't be getting into trouble! And since you guys said it's free for all, I wanna bring ya out on a date!"

" I refuse. Either way, I'm going to be busy with work."

Emphasizing the point by reaching for the reorganized piles of papers on his desk and ignoring the living irritation, Arthur twitched in surprise when a non-American hand swooped in, grabbing the papers from right in front of him.

" Kesesese! So all you've got to do is calculate the budgets and stamp the papers, right? I could do that shit, easy!"

Spotting a chance to bring the two blond's together and enact his first move in the 'get these two idiots together' plan, Gilbert stepped in, swooping the papers into his arms. Arthur scowled indignantly at the Albino. " What in bleeding hell are doing, Gilbert?

" Being awesome, of course!"

Strutting behind the desk where Arthur resided, Gilbert shoved the Brit's chair with his hip, causing the piece of furniture to slide across the floor.

" We've got this work done, just get out and go hold Golden boy's hand, alright?"

The scowl on the Brit's face only deepened further at the German's command, he scoffed. " We? From the look of it, you're the only one willing to take over."

" Kesesese! Everyone else are gonna help too, right guys?" Winking at his fellow student council members, Gilbert sent a silent plead, gesturing to the two stubborn blonds. Matthew, out of the goodness of his heart, responded first. " I-I'll help, eh."

" Awesome! Thanks Mattie!" Gilbert glanced around. " Anyone else?"

" Hon, hon, hon~ Anything for _l'amour, mon ami!_" Francis stood forward, taking half the papers from Gilbert's arms. He turned to the only female in the. _" Et tu, ma chere, Michelle?"_

The girl nodded, seemingly torn by the task of dividing her expression of frowning at the Briton and smiling at the Frenchman. " Fine. As long as it gets eyebrows out the room then I'll help."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the girl, continuing to frown when Kiku himself offered his assistance. It wasn't long before the entire council had decided to kick him out with American.

" Ain't this great, Artie? We've got the entire mornin' to ourselves!"

Feeling himself being shoved out the door, Arthur by his side, Alfred smiled widely at the annoyed Briton. He already knew _exactly_ what he wanted to do.

* * *

All with a small pile of divided work in front of them, each student council member except for Arthur were seated, pens to paper. It wasn't long before the Brit and American had left the room, but, in that short time, worries had already made themselves noticed in the mind of Kiku Honda.

" You're sure this is going to be alright?"

Momentarily turning his attention away from the papers in front of him, the Japanese male glanced up at his German counterpart, expecting an answer. The addressed male, absorbed with quickly punching numbers into a calculator and mumbling math equations, looked up, grinning with confidence.

" No sweat! It's all part of the plan!" He twirled a pen in his hand before placing the back of it to his mouth, contemplating more calculations. " The more you spend time with someone, you either love 'them or hate them more, right? Seeing how Arthur hates golden boy with a passion, there's nothing else to do except fall in love with him!" The Albino grinned, finishing up a single paper of work. " It's elementary, my dear Holmes."

" Oh hon hon...May I ask what exact you two are planning with _notre cher _Arthur?" Breaking from his silent observation from his respective place on the sofa, Francis smirked. " Are you trying to create _l'amour_ between them, I ask?"

Attention diverted to the Frenchman, Gilbert held a blank expression at the question before responding, not to the question, but to the other male's presence. " Hey, Francis. Didn't Arthur already replace you with someone way more awesome?" The Albino gestured to the vice president beside him as he asked the question, earning a blush from the violet eyed male, though the long haired blond only answered with a flick of his hair. " I am present wherever there is _l'amour_ in the air~"

Grumbling, Gilbert left the conversation at that, rushing through the papers with a gusto in hope to finish it early and join into the fun known as Halloween festival. He sighed. " Gott...Eyebrows better be having an awesome time right now."

* * *

Arthur Kirkland was not amused. Not in slightest.

" Arrrrtiiiiieeee! It's a ZOMBIE! SHIT! MAN, IT'S A ZOMBIE! KILL IT, KILL IT!"

His arm clung to, a heavy American leaning to his right shoulder, it was a safe bet to say, that Arthur Kirkland wanted to kill something. Just not the zombie.

" Jones, it's a bleeding costume! If you'd kindly remove yourself from me so I can refrain myself from committing murder, it will be much appreciated!"

"Buuuut! It's scary!". Clinging even tighter, it was as if the American didn't even acknowledge the threat of death. Probably too ignorant to have it register in his mind.

Huffing, Arthur grabbed hold of the taller male's wrist, dragging him down the hallway, mentally berating himself. He had planned to ditch the boy the first chance he had. But, no. They had to meet a teacher on the way. And he _had_ to be the gentleman.

_" It's Alfred's first time experiencing the school's Halloween festival, make sure he has fun, alright, Arthur?"_

The green eyed male muttered to himself under his breath as he dragged the American along. " Yes, teacher. Of course, teacher. I'll make sure he has the time of his life, teacher."

" Hey, you say something, Artie?", Alfred innocently asked, his blue eyes boring into the green. Arthur grumbled. Really, it was the eyes, wasn't it? That made the girls squeal like the little girls they were.

" How many times have I told you not to call me Artie, Jones?", Arthur tore his eyes from the American's, directing his gaze back to the hallway. He couldn't deny that the teen was attractive, he made a bloody living off it, of course. But his childish personality was much too overbearing.

'" But, it's my special nickname for ya! I'm the only one who gets to call you that!"

Really, the boy could be so foolish.

" I only give nicknames to people I really like!"

So stupid.

" And I really like you!"

And idiotic.

" You're special!"

Arthur pushed Alfred into the nearest room he could.

" Hey!" Hearing Alfred let out a yell of protest, Arthur shut the door in front of him, his voice muffling through the door. " Stay at this event for the next fifteen minutes. I'll be back, so you best not have buggered off by then!"

With that, he turned his heel, shuffling towards the cafeteria area, hoping to get a cup of tea. He needed to calm down. He was overworked. That was why he felt feverish. It was the reason there was a small pain in his chest. Arthur glanced behind him, at the door where he left the American behind. He would be back in fifteen minutes. Not that he wanted to of course.

* * *

Tales of Horror.

That was the name of this event. Staring above the door, right at the sign that named the event he was currently present in, Alfred reread the name, once, then twice, then three times, before paling.

He was in deep shit. It wasn't that he wasn't scared or anything. A hero never got scared. Ever. He just disliked horror stories with a passion.

Turning behind him, the blue eyed male swallowed, preparing for the hell that would stand before him. He raised an eyebrow when all he saw were several pillows surrounding a single wooden chair. He grinned at the person that was seated on the lone chair. It was Kiku.

" Kiku?" Stepping forward, Alfred visibly relaxed, moving towards the Japanese male. " Aren't you supposed to be in the student council room? Y'know, working?"

Kiku bored his eyes into the American, nodding silently before answering. " Correct. But, Gilbert-san offered to finish alone. So, we left him to his work after we discussed things."

Ignoring the fact that the other male didn't seem too truthful behind his words, Alfred observed the room, noticing that both he and Kiku were alone in the room. |" So, horror stories, huh? You like 'em."

The smaller of the two males nodded. " I do indeed. "

Alfred continued the conversation, taking a seat on one of the cushions. " So...are you hear to listen to them?" He looked around the room. " This is the newspaper club's room? Right? It doesn't look like any of them are hear yet, so I guess I can go! Since no one's here to tell a story! And Artie's probably gonna be waiting for me real soon!" Standing up from his cushion rather hurriedly, Alfred grinned at the fact that he didn't have to live through a single horror story, and, if Kiku didn't stop him, he would have most likely left the room, in search, once more, for the emerald eyed Briton. But the dark haired male did.

" Alfred-san. Please sit back down."

Commanding tone in his voice, the Japanese male gave a small smile, gesturing to the cushion. With the dark stare directed towards him, the American had no choice to obey.

" Soooo...Kiku, wassup?"

Seating himself back down, the blue eyed male grinned nervously, anxious by the fact that the Asian's black orbs seemed to grow dark with sadism.

'" Before joining the student council, I was a former member of the newspaper club...if you'd like, I will be your narrator for the time."

Swallowing, Alfred refused to show his weakness, laughing. " Of course! That'd be great!"

Taking initiative, Kiku took a comfortable position, readying himself to narrate the most fear inducing story he knew. Taking a deep breath, he began._" In the darkness of bustling city, a family resided, holding the happiness of the entire world."_

Alfred drew a breath, shuddering. He already knew where the story was going.

_" Joy. Money. Fame. Love. The family had it all. Until the birth of their third and last child."_

_ " _WAIIIIITTTTT!" Crying out, Alfred held a hand in front him, he palm spread out into a stop sign. " That child's a demon, ain't he? He's going to kill the entire family, right? I know it!" Shivering, he cuddled himself into a ball. " Can't you tell a different story? Y'know, one less scary?"

Kiku stared at the American with a small frown, his expression tied between annoyance and amusement at the blue eyed male's strong reaction.

" N-not that the story was scary, or anything! It's just I've heard it before!" Still denying his fear, Alfred sighed in relief when the dark haired male gave a small nod accompanied by his own sigh.

" Another story, Alfred-san?" Thinking, Kiku ran his head through dozens of untold stories . It was then that an idea appeared, a non horror related one, in his mind. He looked up at the boy seated in front of him, expression unreadable. " Then, Alfred-san... Shall I tell you the story of the Witch and the Gentleman?"

* * *

It was long.

Really bloody long.

Staring into the cafeteria, Arthur grumbled at the sight of a line up that filled the room, it's numbers passing into double digits. At this rate, attaining tea in a fifteen minute time span would be impossible. Unless, of course, he abused his authority as the student council president. But, seeing how he was a gentleman, he wouldn't.

" Bloody hell..." Turning back, the green eyed male turned back into the hallway in which he first came, heading back towards the American's destination. Alfred was most likely in the midst of a horror story by now. Screaming his lungs out.

Sighing, Arthur continued down the hall. If he entered the room as the boy would probable tackle him where he stood, then most likely attempt to squeeze the life out of him. Running a hand through his hair, Arthur reached the door labelled ' Tales of Horror', making the final decision for his actions.

He'd listen to the story through the door.

* * *

Ensured that the American wouldn't interrupt, Kiku made himself comfortable once more, his eyes reminiscent as he began to recount his tale. It was a story of great importance, he couldn't mess up.

" _In a town, very similar to ours, there lived a Witch and a Gentleman. Opposite of each other in all ways; looks, personality, and gender...the two only had a single trait in common._

_ Their kindness._

_ Even though this one trait was shared, each had their own way of showing it. The witch was openly kind, and she was loved by all. On the other hand, the kindness that was given by the Gentleman was the type that went unnoticed – needed but not known. Thus, the Gentleman was one who was most hated."_

" Hey, hey, hey! Isn't that all wrong?" Interrupting the story, Alfred frowned. " I mean, isn't it usually the witch that gets hated by everyone? Not the gentleman guy?"

Lips down turned by the interruption, Kiku silenced the American with a black stare before answering. " This is not your usual story, Alfred-san. Now, please, if you would kindly not interrupt again." He continued.

_" But, even though the Gentleman's good doing went unnoticed, by someone who held a kindness equal to his, it was seen. And that person was the Witch."_

Kiku took a breath before continuing. _ " Intrigued by the Gentleman, the Witch gave him her kindness. And, receiving that kindness and returning his own, it wasn't long before the Gentleman was bewitched._

_ Just like all the others before him._

_ Loving the Witch and believing he was loved in return, the Gentleman held the most happiness he had ever held. But happiness was a fickle thing, and it wasn't long before it disappeared to another. _

_ The Rose Gardener. One who grew roses and shared them."_

A frown graced the Japanese male's features even as he didn't stop to pause his recount. _" You see, the Gentleman was someone who was very fond of roses. Thus, a strong friendship between the Rose Gardener and himself was made. But that bond was their downfall. Catching his longest friend and most precious lover among the roses,the Gentleman's kindness broke apart. Along with his mind."_

" Hey, Kiku. Is this really a horror story?", Alfred asked, frowning. He was seated cross legged on the cushion, his hands resting on both knees. " This sounds more like those tragic love stories. Y'know, like the ones where the one who gets cheated on kills himself and the other two can't live with themselves so no one is happy. Or the one who gets cheated on kills the other two, am I right?"

Ignoring the American, Kiku went on with his story. " _Torn by the betrayal, the Gentleman wished nothing but pain for the two betrayers. But, the Gentleman was kind, and instead, he destroyed the bonds held between them, doing nothing but burying away his own roses and pain. Despite that, the tragedy was not ended. Even with his friendship and love broken, the Gentleman had forgotten that bonds can only disappear when broken by the two who hold it._

_ And Rose gardener did not want that bond broken. Nor did the Witch. And so, they tried to make amends. But, it was not something fate would allow._

" Hey! It **is **one of those sappy romance stories, ain't it?" The question was left ignored.

_ The Gentleman became something he most hated. Untrustful. Hateful. But, despite that, he had hope. And so, he gave both the Witch and the Rose Gardener a single chance. With that hope, that single chance, he waited by a rose garden, for two people that never came. And so, in despair, he left, leaving his hope behind."_

" Hey, is that it?" Waiting for the continuation by the Japanese male, who had become silent, Alfred tilted head to the side. " The gentleman just went up and left? That's a bit of a boring ending." Scratching his head a bit, the American looked up when Kiku began to speak once more. " It's not quite over, Alfred-san." The story continued.

"_ Even lost with hope, the Gentleman still held his kindness. The cursed kindness that gave him doubts. Should he go back? Wait for a moment longer? Trust them once more?_

_ The Gentleman asked himself over and over, torn by what he should do. And, in the end he returned. To a burning rose garden. With a witch lying amon,g the flaming petals."_

Alfred remained quiet at the turn of events, listening.

_ "Confused, the Gentleman tried to save the Witch. He failed._

_ Panicked, he cried for help. No one came._

_ It was only when ashes blew in the wind, that the Rose Gardener arrived. Along with the towns people, all of whom were carrying blame in their eyes. The Gentleman was found kneeling among ashes,crying. He was asked._

_ What happened?_

_ Looking up, the boy responded with a tear streaked face, his words silent._

_ Did you do this? Did you kill her?_

_ He didn't respond. Because of his silence, all were angry. The ones whom the Witch had bewitched wanted him dead. But still, he did not explain. All the Gentleman said were two words. Two words that went unheard_

_ ' I'm sorry'_

Kiku closed his eyes, moving towards the conclusion of the story. "_ If even a single person had listened and tried to understand those words, the Gentleman could have been saved. But, no one did. And the blame for the Witch's death was placed on his shoulders. Holding an overbearing weight of blame, sorrow, regret and despair, the Gentleman lost the strength to stay a Gentleman. And so, overcome by that weight, he became a monster, destroying – hurting,- all that was around him... A monster that to this day may still exist."_

" I don't get it." Finally realizing that the story had come to it's end, the American deadpanned, confused by the story's conclusion. " That wasn't scary at all. It was kinda sad actually."

The dark haired male opened his eyes, directing his attention towards the blue eyed male. " Is that so?"

Alfred nodded. " Yeah, it was more like those sappy romances, except it had one of those bad endings where no one ends up with the girl. And it was a bit cliched. Y'know, the loner guy gets with the nice girl but then, she ends up with his best friend. He gets mad, but he doesn't wanna hate his friend and EX..." He paused. " But usually, they all stay alive. I guess that could be what makes it scary. So, the guy was supposed to meet with the two of them but they don't come. He leaves, but goes back and the girl's in some sort of accident I guess...and he got blamed for it. Then the pressure got to him, right?"

" I suppose that's correct in a way." Nodding slightly at the American's summary of the short, the dark orbed male spoke. " It is good that you are analyzing this story, Alfred-san."

" Huh?", Looking up from his thoughts, Al scratched at his cheek, gazing at the smaller male. " Why?"

Opening his mouth to answer, Kiku widened his eyes in surprise when the voice that filled the space was not his.

" It's because he's not used to telling stories like that of course. Tales with darker matters are usually more of his strength. He was merely asking his audience for feedback"

Turning to the entrance, Alfred grinned at the sight of the green eyed Briton, though his grin was not returned. Arthur's eyes were directed at Kiku, along with the frown on his face. " The Witch and the Gentleman, hm? It was an intriguing story. It's not like you to tell one like that though. Did Gilbert tell it to you?"

Swallowing at the numerous questions, the Japanese male shook his head. " No, Arthur-san...It was one I knew myself."

Arthur strode deeper into the room, examining the furniture as if a single chair and cushions were worth his interest. " But, the use of imagery in the tale was most satisfactory. Roses and witches. Gentlemen and Gardeners. And monsters..." The Briton met the Japanese males eyes. " A monster...is that how you saw it back then?"

Kiku's eyes widened at the final question, standing up as if in defiance. " No, Arthur-san! That was not what I meant! I -"

Before he could finish, Alfred interrupted, innocently of course, confused with the two male's current exchange. " Hey, Arthur! You're back now, right? Did you get your tea?"

Arthur's attention sidled over to an American and for a single moment, a dark expression resided in the Briton's emerald orbs, only to be replaced with the usual irritation. " The line was too bloody long. It would have caused me more trouble than not to get it."

" Ah.". Letting out a sound that was possibly a word of agreement, Alfred stood up in the direction of the smaller males. " Hey, what're we going to do now?"

" We may be able to fit in one more club event for you before the main one starts." He glanced up to the room's only clock. It was noon. " Maybe not. Gilbert might start the student council's event now."

As if cued by the Briton's words, the lights shut off, replaced by a booming voice on the loudspeaker. " Kesesesese~ Hi, Little birds and wormies~ It's time for some fuuuun~"

Arthur sighed. " And there he is."

" Alright! It's time for the Awesome student council to show you their awesome stuff!" Beginning an explanation of the council's event, Gilbert's voice was racked with excitement. " Basically, the Awesome me and the council of course, is gonna do a haunted house! An Awesome one! That the whole school is part of!"

Sitting onto one of the cushions in the dark, Arthur muttered quietly to himself. " Excellent way to explain that, wanker..."

" We set out books all over the school. Little black books with nothing inside. All you've got to do is find 'em and bring 'em to the student council room. ' Course we won't let you find them easily. Our members will be out to catch you. And you're dead when they do! Winners get prizes and losers get a punishment game from the prez himself! Everyone's a player. No escaping the game~" The Albino paused for effect over the loudspeaker. " Oh, and one of the books have the school's seal drawn on one of the pages. If you find that one you get a special favour from the president himself. Anything at all. Scholarship recommendations, raising your grade...he'll do it."

With that, the loudspeaker buzzed close, leaving them in the dark until the several lights, not all, flickered on. Alfred looked at the two student council members. " So...what?"

Arthur answered " Our event started. Do you want to play?"

Alfred grinned. " Of course! I -"

"Fraaaaateelllloooo! Where are you! VEEEEE! I'm scared! Ludwig! Help me!"

All three males glanced at the door where the scream resided behind as Alfred's smile fell at the sound of numerous screams. " No, I'm good."

Staggering up from his seat cushion, Arthur strode over to another, reaching under the pillow to reveal a small black book. He threw it to the American. " There. Bring that to the council room and you're a winner."

The blue eyed male stared at the book for a moment before flipping through it. It held no mark labelled 'Hetalia Academy' on it's pages. Pouting, he glanced up at the other. " So, I don't get a special favour from the president? "

"No.", Arthur responded, sharp and straight. " But, at least you're not a loser." He walked towards the door, peeking outside. " You won't have to go through the punishment game. A pity since I was planning on doubling homework for all of them." He paused. " But anyways..." The Briton reached out the door, and in a single, sharp movement, he grabbed hold of something, looking unsurprised that the object he grabbed hold of, elicited a yell. " There will be one less person to capture"

Thrusting his arm back towards himself, Arthur pulled an entirely other body into the room, throwing it to the ground, shutting the door in front of him. If the muscular body and German swears weren't anything to go with, it was the screams outside that gave away the captive's identity.

" Ludwig! Where are you? Where'd you go! Come baaack!"

The body on the floor stood up, only to be held down sharply by the student president. " Ah. I apologize, Ludwig. But you've lost."

" Arthur Kirkland! Let go of me!" Looking up, a scowl place on his face, the German tried to remove himself from the president's grip, to no avail. The Briton's strength was the complete opposite of how he looked.

" Sorry, Ludwig." Face neutral in response, Arthur crouched to the younger male's eye level, staring at the face ohis friend's younger brother. " But, you've been caught. You can't leave this room until the events over. That's the rules."

A German curse became airborne as Ludwig glared at the Briton, who allowed an amused smile to grace his lips. The said Briton then reached into his pocket, retrieving a small black marker. And, taking the German's hand in his, he marked an X on the back of the limb. " This is just to prove that you've been captured. You can wash it off later when the event is over...I'm sure that Feliciano can live without you for a single hour."

Standing up, he made his way to the door, leaving all other males in the room behind him. And, with the American trailing behind him, he entered a semi-dark hallway, void of people.

" Why are you still following me, Jone? Didn't I tell you to bring that book to the student council room? I believe that it is in another direction,"

Glancing at the book, Alfred pocketed it before answering. " Naw, you just said that I'd be one of the winners if I bring it there. So I'll go later."

Silent, the green eyed male continued walking down the hall, close to the wall, as if he was waiting for something to run past. Something did.

Feliciano Vargas. Followed by a grey monster, characterized with an overgrown head, red eyes aglow.

"Veeeeeeeehhhhhhhh!"

Finally making a move, Arthur threw himself in front of the monster's path, effectively stopping it. " Geez, mum! I was about to catch someone!"

Twitching in surprise at the fact that a certain Australian's voice originating from inside the monster, Alfred dipped down in front of the beast, frowning. " Oh, dude, it's you."

Removing the head of his Koala costume, Kyle shook his head, removing several kinks from his hair. " Hi, hero." He turned back to Arthur. " Why'd you have to stop me, mum? I was just about to capture the mate!"

" Where's everyone else?" Arthur stared at his fellow council member, enquiring for an answer that was immediately received."

" Michelle's going after people with a sword fish, Francis is going after her with his hands, Gilbert is preaching to people about how awesome he is and going after them with a sword, Xiao's with his firecrackers and Matthew's doing this awesome invisible thing and catching a whole bunch of guys without them noticing."

Nodding with a muttered ' I see', Arthur began walking once more, leaving the Australian to what he was doing previously. Kyle just shrugged off the talk and run, about to go back after the Italian when he noticed Alfred going back to following the Briton.

" Hey, mate. Wait up a sec."

The American glanced back at the younger male, still frowning. He was still holding a grudge from when the boy kissed Arthur on the cheek. And Arthur was moving farther away from him." Yeah?"

" Why're you following, mum?"

Alfred deadpanned. " 'Cause I can."

Tilting his head thoughtfully, the brown haired male brought the other's hand to his face, his expression blanking. " You don't have a X your hand, so you're not his prisoner. " His eyes landed on the bulge in the American's bomber jacket. He reached for it, procuring the black book.

" Hunh. You found a book. Did mum give it to you, mate?"

" Yeah." Furrowing his eyebrows ever so slightly at the way the Australian was examining the book, Alfred reached for his belonging. " So?"

Kyle looked up from his examination, not allowing it to reach the American's hold. " It's nothing at all. It's just that I find that a little irritating, mate."

Without warning, the green eyed male tossed the book to side casually, earning a yell from the other. " Hey!"

But, before the object could fall to the ground, nor could it be reached by it's owner, it was caught, the catcher stopping only momentarily. Long enough for the American to catch a glimpse of dark eyes and dark hair. It was Xiao Wang.

" Give that back!"

Running after the male, hand outstretcheed, Alfred was about to grab hold of the other when a heavy pressure fell to his side, pushing him down under, onto the floor and into a small, dark room. A storage room, most likely. The last thing he saw was a mixture of pale green and dark orbs staring at him as the door closed shut, locking the male in.

" HEY! What the hell, you guys? ! "

Banging the door, Alfred could barely hear the muffled answers behind the thick barrier.

" Sorry, mate, I don't have anything against you, but, we _are_ the anti-hero faction. We had to make our move sooner or later."

Alfred shouted. " What the hell are you talking about? Open the door!"

An answer, not Kyle's, came after. " Stupid American. What he means is that the idiot president doesn't need a hero."

* * *

Walking in silence for several minutes, Arthur scowled, glancing behind him and at the absence of an idiot American. It wasn't that he minded the quiet of course, hell, it was a godsend after listening to the fool blather in his ear constantly for the last few days. Not to mention that it gave him time to reflect on what he should do upon his next meeting with Kiku. Frowning at the thought, the emerald eyed male sighed. Why did the boy tell that stupid story? He Witch and the Gentleman.

It was nothing but a bloody watered down version of the truth.

" Bloody hell..." Muttering to himself, Arthur bit his lip, his eyebrows furrowing. He should be looking for students to capture, not thinking about something depressing. But, that bleeding story wasn't even completely true.

He didn't cry that day. He didn't turn into a monster. He wasn't kind.

Closing his eyes, he shuddered at the memory.

* * *

_Arthur stood in front of a burning building, staring at the orange flames, enraptured by the sight, the yells that surrounded him falling on deaf ears. This couldn't be happening. He was supposed to wait for them. So they could explain. Make him understand. Francis and Jeanne. But they didn't come. So why was she inside? Why was she dead?_

_ Was it his fault?_

_ He tried to save her. The burns on his hands were proof. Burns left by the scorching knobs of burning doors that he had tried to open._

_ " Arthur!"_

_ The young Briton looked up, meeting blue eyes and long blond hair._

_ " O__ù est Jeanne?__ ! "_

_ Arthur didn't respond, numb to everything as he stared at the flowing flames._

_ "O__ù est-elle? !"_

_ Ah. He should have waited. Then this wouldn't be happening. It was his fault. Arthur closed his eyes, shutting off the entire outside world, leaving nothing but his regret. He heard himself speak, though he wasn't sure to whom his words were directed to.48_

_ " I'm sorry."_

* * *

Opening, his eyes, Arthur turned back down the hall he once came. He needed to get his mind off these things. And snapping at an idiot American was the perfect escape.

* * *

It was really fucking dark.

Hugging his knees, that was the one thought that ran through the blond American thought as he huddled by the door, sniffling. It was a manly sniffle, of course. But still, it was really fucking dark.

Looking up, he could barely make out his surroundings in the darkness. Nothing but shelves and weird objects. To be expected from a storage room, of course. A really dark storage room. Swallowing, Alfred muttered softly to himself.

"This ain't scary...It ain't scary at all."

About to go back to hugging his knees, the blue eyed male froze. Something moved. Looking up, among the shelves, Alfred felt his breath hitch at the sight of short stumpy legs and a long pink dress.

A doll. It had to be a doll, didn't it?

Whimpering, the American brought himself into a tighter ball. Dolls usually started moving in a situation like this, right? They'd go towards unsuspecting victims and kill them, leaving no one but the victim any wiser. Beginning to shiver, Alfred shifted himself away from the shelves, not noticing as his arm bumped into the wall, causing the furniture to move slightly.

The doll fell.

He screamed.

* * *

Hearing a scream, Arthur quickly snapped out of his thoughts, his mind clearing. In any other situation, he would have ignored the fearful yell, it was Halloween after all, but, the fact that the scream belonged to someone he recognized irked him,

So did the fact that the owner of the voice was one he found irritating. And someone the was currently searching for.

Quickening his pace, Arthur headed to the source of screaming, coming upon one of the drama classes storage room. He scowled, confused by the younger blond's location.

" Oi, Jones! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Swinging the door open, all irritation dissipated, leaving only confusion at the finding of the American. Alfred was present, of course, the screaming proved it, but... the sight of him screaming while trying to slap a doll off of him was something to be questioned.

" ...Oi..."

Raising an eyebrow and calling out weakly, Arthur strode into the space, plucking the doll off the other easily, tossing it out the door and causing the yells to quieten.

Teary blues met green as Alfred jumped at his saviour, making the both of them crash to the floor.

Embracing the smaller male tightly, Alfred snuggled into the crook of the other teen's neck, ignoring the cusses and commands to let go that were elicited by the action. " T-the doll started attacking me! It was so scary! I couldn't see nothing so couldn't use my Hero attack and defend myself!"

" Let go of me, you git!"

Shoving the larger boy off him, Arthur brushed himself off and sitting up. " What the hell are you doing here, Jones?"

The American whined at the lost of contact, lunging back for another hug, only kept back Arthur kept a tight palm on his forehead, ensuring he was always an arm length away. " They pushed me in here and locked the door! And they said I was annoying and an idiot!"

Letting out an irritated breath, Arthur frowned at the American before turning back to the door, silently wondering who 'they' were. He froze. The door was shut. Quickly standing up and allowing the blue eyed male to slip to the floor, the Briton turned the knob. Locked.

" Shit!" Swearing, the green eyed male allowed himself to crouch on the floor, placing a hand to his head to ward off a growing head ache. He glanced back at the American who hadn't moved from the place he left him, though teary blue orbs were staring upward pitifully.

" Oi. I though heroes weren't allowed to cry and be scared."

Pouting at the statement, Alfred brought himself up to gaze into the other's own emerald orbs. "I'm not scared! Or crying!"

Denying the obvious, the sunny blond frowned, shivering and doing his utmost to restrain himself and jump into the other's arms. Despite having the other present in the small space, it was still terribly dark. Quieting significantly, he buried his head in his knees, worrying the other slightly.

" Jones, are you alright?"'

" ...'m fine." Responding with barely a whisper, Alfred didn't speak another word, causing Arthur's worry to increase.

" Oh,really?" The sandy blond's voice held a little anger at the American's obvious lie. " You don't look bleeding fine to me!""

" I said 'm fine!" Mumbling once more, Alfred only served to make the Briton angrier. " You're obviously not bloody fine. If you're scared, just tell me! Jones!"

Pressured by the discomfort and fear of the situation, the American looked up at the angered Briton, his emotions rising as he snapped, standing up and glaring uncharacteristically. " Tell you so you could do what? Say that I'm an idiot again?" He sniffled. " Fine! I'm scared! I'm scared and I wanna hug you and I want you to call me by my first name! Why do you keep calling me Jones anyways? No one else does! Kiku already stopped!" Falling back down, he embraced his knees once more, leaving the shocked Brit silent. " Well, let's hear it. Say that I'm stupid."

Arthur just stood there, unable to speak for the moment. He opened his lips, closed them, and opened them once more after taking a deep breath. " Ah...I apologize...Alfred..."

The American only responded with a small glance at the sound of his name.

" It's just that...you're last name is a lot more easier to pronounce."

Alfred twitched at the strange ultimatum, finally directing his full attention to the other, momentarily forgetting his discomfort. "Say what?"

" You're last name only has one syllable and since I've been using it since the beginning, I was just too lazy to start calling you Alfred."

It was the blue eyed male's turn to be shocked as he stared at the other. " The hell? You mean this whole time I've been thinking you were being cold to me and you've just been lazy?" He paused. " What about Francis? I've heard you call him Bonnefoy and that's three syllables."

Arthur frowned, sensing the beginning of an argument. " He calls me Kirkland at times, so it's only fair if I called him by his last name as well."

" Aren't you supposed to be the posh British dude who's always like the Nazi of grammer? Who's always like ar-ti-cu-la-tion this spell check that?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, the sandy blond glared. " Don't insult me, bloody American! At least I don't go off butchering the queen's language with every sentence I speak!"

Alfred pouted back. " I making it a lot more awesome, unli-"

" Look! Can't you just bleeding shut your trap for once!"

Silencing the American, Arthur dropped downwards, resting his back on the other male's knees. " Tch! I'm too tired to bloody argue!"

" ...what are you doin'?"

Questioning the student council president,though not pushing the other teen away, Alfred stared at the back of Arthur's head, puzzled. Arthur remained silent to the questions.

' _ I'm scared and I wanna hug you and I want you to call me by my name!"_

Realizing his own answer, the larger male let out a prolonged ' Ohhhh', before relaxing his knees and bringing the smaller of the two closer to his chest. The Briton didn't struggle. Alfred chuckled. " Maybe you can be nice sometimes after all Artie!"

Mumbling, Arthur hated the fact that he was beginning to feel a content type of tiredness in the other's arms. The hours of Halloween preparation coupled with school and work were taking it's toll. " Sod off. This is because I'm a gentleman, nothing else!"

Running his hand through the green eyed male's hair, Alfred smiled to himself as he began to feel Arthur's breath slow into a sleepy pace. He gazed at the other's relaxed face, the Briton's last words almost going unnoticed.

' I'm a gentleman.'

Alfred's expression fell slightly as words entered his head.

_ There once was a Witch and a gentleman._

His expression fell even more.

_ The Gentleman was one most hated._

He frowned.

_Overcome with regret, sorrow,and despair, the Gentleman became a monster._

Shaking his head, Alfred brushed a piece of stray hair from Arthur's face. The teen looked cute, his face free from scowls and frowns. Smiling softly, the American pushed the words out of his mind, focusing on what was in front of him as he himself began to close his eyes.

He would worry about it later.

* * *

" Well, this is cute."

Opening the door to the storage room, Elizabeta stared at the two boys, cuddling in their sleep, secretly taking a picture. She had only come to return her Halloween costume, though the pleasant surprise was much appreciated. Reaching into her pocket, she began to text Kiku, letting the teen know that the arduous search for the two missing blonds was over. Smiling at the sight, she looked at the two once more. Arthur was resting his head on the American's shoulder, his hands curled between both his and the other's chest in a comfortable position. On the other hand, Alfred had a hand draped over the smaller male, as if in a protective gesture. The Hungarian smiled once more.

Yes. They were cute together.

* * *

**A\N: Okay, you guys , that's the end of this chapter. Hope it's good enough to last 'till the next. Eh heh! Well, a little bit of Arthur's past has been revealed plus a little more USUK bonding. But, I bet you've got even more questions now than ever. Oh, and btw, everyone who saw the hetaoni references get cookies! Oh, and on another note, just a question to everyone. I've found out that writer's block dies faster when I alternate between writing two different topics. Because of that I have three-fourths of the first chapter of this weird USUK AU on my computer whose plot bunny has been poking at my head for a while now. I'm probably gonna title it ' You're gonna go far, kid' and it's a Bodyguard/Police officer X Criminal Boss type thing. But, I'm torn if I should post it when I'm done the chapter or until I'm done this first. I kinda wanna post it and see how everyone reacts but...i dunno.**


	11. Multiplying annoyances

**A/N: Okay! Kudos and cookies go to Grimm and Zenorules101 for finding the hetaoni references! XD They were the grey monster chasing after Italy and the little black book! I acknowledge your extreme and utter awesomeness and must grovel and shield my eyes at your greatness. Also thanks to everyone correcting my FAIL grammar. I love you guys so much and bow down to you as well. You have no idea how thankful I am! Hearts to everyone!**

* * *

" Alfred! Chin up! Tilt your head to the head a little and don't forget to smile! Yes! That's it!"

Posing in front of camera flashes, Alfred leaned into another position, ensuring that the smile on his face never faded. Living in front of the heat of a studio and camera flashes were his element, and, despite his light attitude to everything else, the American's job was one he took with earnest. Even if it was difficult to tell.

" Wink at the camera, Alfred!"

Obeying the cameraman, a peculiar Turkish man that went by the name Sadiq, the blue eyed male hurriedly wiped a drop of sweat from his brow, eye contact with the camera refusing to break even once. Two hours had already passed since the start of the photoshoot, and, seeing how it was already nine pm, a visit from a certain Briton was already past due. At least it was according to the schedule he received from Kiku.

Sunday. Work from five am to one pm. Break and bus to work. Another job from two to eight pm.

Weekdays. School. Free time 'till seven pm. Bus to work. Work from eight to twelve a.m.

Saturday. Work from five am to one pm. Two hours free. Work from three to eleven pm.

It was Sunday.

Running over the schedule over his head and ensuring himself that the fact he memorized it wasn't creepy in the slightest Alfred glanced at the clock, silently wishing that the shoot would end and sooner and that the agonizingly slow ticks of the clock would quicken. There was already a fifty percent chance that the Briton wasn't even in the Bonneland building and another twenty five percent chance that the boy would be sleeping. Waking the green eyed male was not something the American wished to do yet having the boy asleep would be boring. Therefore, catching him when he was awake was his only option.

" Okay! That's a wrap!"

Dropping his full out smile and wink into an expression more neutral yet happy, Alfred blinked, relaxing his pose as well. He stretched out, grinning once more as he removed several kinks from his back from being frozen in several difficult poses. The Turkish man, on the other hand, removed himself from behind his camera, striding towards the model and fixing the position of a strange white mask on his face.

" Good job, Alfred!" Giving the model a thumbs up and a smile, the Turk walked passed the other, preparing the stage for another photo shoot,leaving the American to his own devices. Alfred grinned in response, nodding and heading to the door. He had someone to look for.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland was at Bonneland modelling agency. Nine pm, tired as hell and knowing he should be asleep by now, the green eyed male dropped his head against the table, wondering why in the Queen's name he was still here. Oh yes, Francis stole his apartment keys. So why wasn't the frog dead yet?

" It has been a long time, da?"

Ah, he forgot. He was having a conversation.

Propping his elbows on the table, the Briton tilted his head at a pale haired Russian, returning his attention to the other.

" I spoke you two weeks ago, Ivan." Replying, Arthur adjusted the scarf around his neck, a General Winter brand wear that he had just received from the Russian, garnering a smile from the purple eyed male.

" Da. But that is a long time, yes?" He smiled childishly at the Briton. " You are enjoying the scarf?"

Mumbling an affirmative, Arthur confirmed the point by tightening the scarf around his neck. Ivan Braginski, age 20, was another one of Bonneland agency's top models, his popularity peaking during winter campaign months. Tall, with a muscular built and soft white hair with violet eyes that seemed to glow, the Russian's popularity rivalled that of a certain American. Generally quiet with child-like tendencies and thought to be borderline insane, Arthur found, that if he was careful not to anger the man, he was fair tea drinking companion- though there were times when he questioned if the clear liquid in the man's cup was really tea. Sighing tiredly, the Briton attempted to continue the conversation. " How is your relationship with Yao these days?"

The Russian seemed to light up at the question, answering immediately. " We are good, he is still very shy, but, he will not be shy soon, yes?" Smiling childishly, his expression was accompanied with a dark glint in his eye as he continued to smile at the Briton, his mind elsewhere. Arthur sighed as he noticed the violet orbed male's eyes go blank, his mind most likely wandering through an erotic fairy tale between himself and his Chinese lover, who, unfortunately was also one of the green eyed male's employers. Relaxing and allowing his head to fall back on the table, Arthur himself began to have his own mind wander into happier times when the door banged against the wall, an American rushing through it.

" ARTIE! Yes! I knew it! You're still here!"

Grinning with enthusiasm with the sight of the smaller blonde, Alfred began to run towards the teen before freezing at the sight of the third party in the room. His face dropped theatrically in recognition as he alternated his sights between both males, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. It wasn't long before he resumed charging towards his target, screaming.

" NO! Artie! Why are with that commie bastard? ! He's gonna kill you!" Lunging in to protect the sandy blonde teen, Alfred only stopped at a glare that could only be given by one who stood at the threshold of utter darkness and exhaustion.

" _**Do not **_take a single step closer, Alfred. If you do so, I will castrate you where you stand."

Instead of an expression of fear, the American's face dropped into a smile. He could never get used to Arthur finally calling him by his first name. It just sounded so _nice._

Torn between listening to the Brit and jumping him, Alfred remained in his place, actually contemplating what he should do. And idea entered his head as he walked backwards farther from the Brit, who, in turn, sighed in relief at the boy actually listening to him. Of course, that relief was short-lived. Stopping at the door, Alfred turned back to the emerald eyed male, suddenly breaking into a sprint. Lost once more into a charge, the American jumped from the place he had first stopped. He didn't take a step closer. He took a leap.

" Arrrttttiiieeee!" Propelled in the air, Alfred aimed himself at the Briton, effectively smashing into the smaller teen and succeeding to force him onto the floor, the larger atop the smaller, their faces almost touching.

" You bloody prat! Get off of me!" Struggling beneath the other male, Arthur scowled at the other, groaning in pain, his head throbbing as the weight above him never ceased. " You're lucky that the butter knife is out of my bleeding reach or I'd castrate you as we bloody are!"

Alfred laughed at the threat grinning down at the other with utter happiness despite the fact that the both of them were a mess from the fall. " Geez, Artie! I mean, if you wanna touch it so much..."

Frowning blankly at the statement, the green eyed male scowled as he realized the meaning behind the words, his face tinging a slight red. " Git! Why would I want to touch your _thing _? !"

" 'Cause my little Alfred is awesome!" He winked. " And I know you wanna!"

Smiling, Alfred rubbed his cheek against the other male's face in a gesture of affection, garnering a protest and another painful grumble. If the American's weight wasn't complete atop the other, Alfred would have most likely already received a knee to the groin, but, as he dipped down to steal a kiss, he was fortunate he was. Unluckily though, Arthur's hands were still free, pushing the blue eyed male's face away.

" Aw! Artie! Just once kiss!" Alfred attempted to get past the wall of hands as he tried for another kiss, only to be pulled away by the back of his collar.

" It is nice that you are so close, da?" A cold voice entered Alfred's senses as he hung a foot above the Briton before being tossed off the other male. " Yao and I are close too. That is why I do not like it when someone interrupts my good dream of him."

Whining as he fell onto the cold floor, Alfred noticed that the room's table was in disarray as well as the chairs. It would have seemed that by jumping onto the Briton, he had shoved the furniture right into the Russian's gut. Getting up, he pouted to see that Arthur was already brushing himself off and thanking the violet eyed male. It was then that the American noticed the scarf. _The General Winter brand scarf._

His face began to shape a horror expression as he stared at the scarf, the _purple_ scarf – the same colour as the Russian model's eyes around the Briton's neck.

" Arthur! Why are you wearing that scarf? !"

Attempting to unravel the piece of cloth from the smaller teen's neck, Alfred only had his hand swatted away.

" Don't touch that, you git!" Fixing his scarf, the green eyed blond glared, earning a whine from the other.

" But, Artie! That's Braginski's brand of clothing! If you wanted something warm, I could've-"

" The only thing warm you have is that bloody line of bomber jackets! I'd rather drop dead that wear something like that!" Cutting off the other male, Arthur attempted to make his way out of the room – away from the American and the commotion – and go home, stolen keys be damned. He would just tell the landlady and she would most likely change the lock for him. But, of course, life was never kind to him.

" Hon hon hon ~ Are the two lovers having a spat?" Finally appearing, the long haired Frenchman entered the room, twirling a ring of keys in his hand. Arthur growled at the new entry in anger, reaching for the keys to his home. " Frog! Return those to me!"

Surprisingly the Frenchman gave in quite easily, tossing the keys to the English teen, smirking. " Of course, _mon cher!_ Now that you are here and the American is here, my plan is complete!"

Arthur cached the keys easily, scowling at the man's words. The Briton wasn't stupid. At first, it was only an inkling, but over several attempts, he now noticed every single try that several people had committed in hope to bringing both he and the foolish American together.

Gilbert's attempts.

Kiku's attempts.

And now, Francis' attempts.

Arthur grumbled as he pocketed the keys, cursing the people he called friends. Why couldn't they see that he didn't enjoy spending time with the younger male?

" I'm going home."

Turning tail, the slim blonde adjusted the scarf around neck once more, keys in hand. He left the room, looking straight ahead with a scowl, leaving two Europeans plus and American together. It was when the Briton disappeared that the Frenchman turned to his fellow blue eyed male, pinching the bridge of his nose with a melodramatic sigh. " Alfred, Alfred, Alfred. _Mon cher Alfred. Pourquoi? ?__**"**_

For split second the American's face twitched in what could have been disgust as he mentally deigned himself freaked out by the repetitive use of his name by the senior model. Of course, the expression could have easily been imagined as the blue eyed male's trademark smile fell, once again, on his features. He waved a hand at Francis. " Yo. Wassup, dude?"

The Frenchman repeated his sigh, shaking his head. " _Mon ami_. It is a shame that you are so blind? Do you not see?" Alfred stared blankly, earning a frown from the other. " _Le fortuit! _The chance! The opportunity! I brought him here_ pour toi! _So that you may comfort him! And, as you say, sweep him off his feet!" He shook his head harder. " _Mais, non._ You let the chance slip away. _Tu es fou._

" Oh." Blank expression morphing into one of understanding, for a second it seemed as if the blue eyed male understood, though the expression quickly went away. " 'Kay. I get that you want me to sweep him off his feet. But, why'd you want me to comfort him? Did he get hurt or somethin'?" He smacked his fist against his palm in realization. " You guys just want me to share my awesomeness with him right? ! So that the frown that's stuck on his face gets unstuck, right? !

Instead of the Frenchman answering, a response surprisingly arrived through the Russian, who was previously left forgotten. " _Nyet_. Arthur is injured."

Bending forward so he was just below the American's height, Ivan tilted his to meet the blue eyed male's gaze, a seemingly innocent smile playing on his lips. " You really did not notice, stupid American? The little bird was not very feisty today, da? Usually he is very cute and fiery but not as cut as Yao. But he was not fiery today. He walked strange and he is hiding something behind the scarf. I saw."

" Huh?" Furrowing his eyes in confusion, Alfred stared at the Russian, his mouth in a slight 'O'. " Hey, how'd you know that?"

The purple orbed male only smiled. " I have known him from the time when he was the one who injured, not the one who was injured. He was very exciting then." He paused. " But, he is still amusing as he is."

Still slightly confused, the golden blond shook his head, shaking away the overload of information, leaving only thoughts of the Briton in his head.

" Then I'll go get him back! Can't let a chance just go!" The American took five large strides to the door, only to be blocked by the other blonde.

_" Non, non, non. _The time is no longer right, _mon cher. Il est fatigué. _He will not appreciate it if you run after him now."

" But-" Protesting, the sky blue eyed American tried to push through the door, frowning. Francis continued to block his way. " _Non. _You will get your chance when you see him again at school." He went quiet for a moment. " You will understand more then...and hopefully lessen your ignorance as well."

* * *

Arthur opened the door to his apartment, an old four story building that seemed just on the verge of collapsing. It was not the best place to live, nor his first choice, but, it was in a quiet area of the city, away from the bustle. Not to mention it was inexpensive, and the old aura of the building seemed to keep away most people.

" ...hell..."

Closing the door to his home, the Briton strode in, not bothering to turn on the lights. It wasn't as if there was anything to trip over, seeing that the room was virtually empty. So, heading in the bathroom's general direction, Arthur expertly manoeuvred himself in the dark, only flipping the light switch when he reached his destination, coming face to face with a mirror.

Examining his reflection, the blond noticed the purple bags under his eyes. He moved his arm to feel his face, flinching at the pain that the simple action garnered. Letting out a breath, Arthur tugged off his scarf, allowing it to fall on his bathroom counter as he pulled off his shirt as well, his breath hitching as he did so. Numerous bruises, accompanied with the odd cut littered his body, bruising up to the base of his neck. Really. It was a pain in the arse that bruises, and everything that came with them faded so slowly. Even though it had already been two days since he first received them. The Briton has had worse of course, but still, they still hurt like a bitch. He had been expecting them of course when he had first saw the death glares of those that the American had called his 'fans'. And seeing how it was already over a month since the boy had first transferred, he supposed that the attack was already past due. He sighed. These things were just too much of an annoyance to deal with. The American's fan's were just so lucky that he was too much of gentleman to hit women. Even if their behaviour resembled behemoths than actual girls.

* * *

"_ We want you to stay away from Alfred."_

_ Turning behind him in the hallway, Arthur came eye to eye with a long haired blonde, face seemingly cat like and kind despite the malice directed at him through her eyes even as he stared back calmly. Running through the list of senior students silently in his mind, it seemed that the girl was one who transferred from Belgium. Bella was her name, he believed._

_ " Hm? What was that you said?"_

_ The girl's eyes flared at the question as she glared at the male, repeating her words more forcefully. "WE WANT YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM ALFRED." She took a breath, continuing. "He belongs to all of us. It's disgusting how someone like you is keeping his attention! You're nothing more than a toy for him to play with anyways!"_

_ Jealousy was truly an ugly thing, wasn't it?_

_ " I didn't realize that Alfred was a piece of property that is divided among people. Maybe I should treat him as such the next time we meet. "_

_ Arthur's response was laced with sarcasm as he stared the woman down. Bella was not perturbed. "You would stay away from him if you knew what was good for you."_

_ " And if I refuse?"_

_ The female's eyes narrowed as she shot out a hand, gripping at the other's wrist. " Oh, I insist."_

_ Really. Women were such annoyances to deal with. _

* * *

Splashing his face with cold water, Arthur yawned, rubbing one eye. He was tired. So very tired. Patting his face with a towel to dry, the green eyed male tossed his towel over the shower curtain rod to dry as he shuffled out the bathroom door, scratching his stomach from under his pyjamas - a simple tee shirt and cotton trousers. He was slightly hungry, but it wasn't likely that there was anything worth eating in his fridge, and, seeing how he was already having difficulties fighting off sleep as it was, it was decided that he would wait 'till morning before having a meal. So, walking back into the one room in his apartment, not including the kitchen and toilet area, Arthur dropped down onto the couch, which also played the dual role of his bed. He closed his eyes, glancing at the calender on his wall just before he fell asleep. November. It was almost Thanksgiving. Letting out a tired breath, the Briton turned over in his couch so he was facing nothing more than the semi soft fabric of the furniture. It was stupid.

What did he have to be thankful for?

* * *

**A/N:**

**Whooo! I actually updated in time! Let's ignore that I took a sick day off school and ended up writing this. So...wussup? Heh. Well, last chapter was mostly about the past so, I wanted this one to take a peek at Artie's and Alfie's present life for a bit. Hm. I sorry to Belgium fans for making her out as a bad guy. I know she's really nice, I do! But, I didn't know who to give the role to and she was just there. I apologize. The Thanksgiving date confused me a bit though. I was actually planning a thanksgiving chapter before the Halloween ones when I remembered that American Thanksgiving is different from the Canadian one. So it'll have to come after. Well, I hope Alfred will be the hero next chapter...oh and just as a side note, I actually went and did that weird fiction idea that I was talking about. The initial reaction wasn't bad so, I think I'm gonna continue it. W-well...y-y'know...i-if you want...you could check it out...not that I'm asking you too! I-I'm not! Really! ...it'll just be on my profile if you wanna...okay... I'll shut up now.**


	12. Right in front of you

Arthur Kirkland was numb.

Grounded to nothing but gritty, frigid cement and dust, the male sat, emerald orbs turned up to an endless stretch of blue sky. A breeze was churning, sweeping coldness through his limbs, November winds chilling both blood and bones as his eyes refused to leave freedom's everlasting symbol.

_'Meet us on the roof,' they had told him._

_ 'Come alone,' they had said. _

_ 'Don't tell anyone.'_

An empty, broken chuckle fell apart through the cold silence, disappearing into the short gale. He was pitiful. Pathetic Arthur Kirkland. Bruised and numb, back against the high ridge of a roof edge, he was seated, unable to protect himself from even the soft freezing burn of the air. All because he was a gentleman. Because he was kind. Because he was foolish. Because he made the choice to no longer fight.

"So stupid..." Arthur laughed quietly as he tore his eyes from the sky, believing himself unworthy of it's freedom. He glanced to his right. No one was there. Nothing but the bleak grey surface of a rough cement roof, outstretched and desolate, ending only with a high wall, made even higher by a smooth, chain link fence. Beyond it he could only see blue, tainted with steel metal, imprisoning the male as if a prison. Arthur gazed to the left, then to his front. The same sight was met. Only up. It was only there that the sky remained unsoiled. But now, his limbs numb, he no longer had the strength to allow his eyes to meet the blinding view. Eyelids fluttered shut as the green eyed male listened to the current blow faster through the air.

The wind was screaming.

He wasn't.

The wind was crying.

He couldn't.

A sigh was mixed with a small gust, unheard by anyone, not even it's owner. Arthur Kirkland was exhausted. But, still the boy forced himself to stand. His limbs would barely obey him. Yet he walked, heading towards the door. The Briton reached for the door knob, turning it and wincing at the sharp pain that even the smallest of movements cost him. But, as his foot stepped past the barrier between indoors and out, the sandy blond's back straightened, his aloof expression returning once more, contradicting his insides. Pain was nothing he couldn't handle. No one would know.

No one needed to.

* * *

"Arthur!"

Alfred rushed through the door of the student council room, ecstatically searching for the familiar image of fluffy blonde hair. The American had finished his math test much earlier than expected, allowing him an early leave. And, with free time on his hands Alfred F. Jones had only a single objective on mind: to find Arthur Kirkland.

Previously in the day, he had seen Gilbert with Mattie, Kiku with the history teacher, Francis with Michelle, and the two other junior members of the council in class, though not a single sign of the Brit anywhere in the school. The American grinned at a realization that entered his thoughts. If the student council members were elsewhere, it meant that the president was all alone. And, if Alfred were to find him, the two of them would be together.

Just him and Artie.

The blue eyed male bounced his last step into the student council, shoes landing onto the worn grey carpet of the space as the smile on his features widened. He glanced up, examining the room – wooden desks and all – once more searching for distinctive bright emerald eyes. His smile dropped when the expected sight was not met, an unpredicted and unwelcome extra present in the small space.

Yes. Arthur was there. He was sleeping. But, he wasn't alone.

"Tch. It's the idiot hero," sarcastic words spoke as brown venom contained eyes glanced towards the American's presence. Xiao Wang, the council's freshman representative was attendant, standing alongside the sofa and hovering over the unconscious Briton.

"Hey. Ain't you supposed to be in class?" Alfred asked the other male as his face fell into a scowl, annoyance littering his features. He wanted to be alone with the Brit. And the presence of Xiao Wang did not equal alone.

"I was going to the bathroom," Xiao stated as his eyes left the American's, returning once more to the sleeping male - an action that irritated the older male further. The Chinese male was holding Arthur's limp arm in his hand, seemingly examining the limb with a frown. His expression was mirrored in the blue eye male's own features as the American observed, annoyed. What kind of weirdo would just touch a sleeping guy's arm and stare at it?

"The bathroom is outside this room, to the right and down the hall."

Alfred gestured to the exit, indicating it's direction and his wish for the younger male to leave as he took a large step forward towards the two council members. Drawing closer, the American believed he caught the sight of a tiny spot of dark discolouration on the Brit's arm, but, before he could fully investigate, the fabric of Arthur's white dress shirt was pulled back over his skin, removing it from sight.

"Pervert." the Chinese male deadpanned at the American, dark eyes meeting with blue once more.

"Hey! I'm not the one that's staring at some guy sleeping!" Alfred rushed to his own defence as eyebrows furrowed deeply, though not quite deep enough to match Arthur's customary scowl.

Xiao refused to rebuke the defence as he moved forward to meet the American's stride, the difference in height plainly realized as the two were situated face to face. "You really are stupid, aren't you, idiot hero?"

With that single question, he pushed past the other, heading towards the door as Alfred reached for smaller male's wrist, grabbing it and pulling the other back. "Hey! What the hell do you mean? !"

Despite the grip on his wrist, Xiao's expression remained neutral, eyes dark. An expression reminiscent to Kiku in anger. "I mean, if you can't even see something that's happening right in front of you, you don't deserve to call yourself a hero, stupid American."

Sliding his wrist out of the larger male's hold, Xiao's eyes darkened as he glanced at the American, returning to their normal shade when they fell on the sleeping Briton. "You don't know anything. About him. About his past. About who he is. That's why you can't be his hero." The Chinese male glared at the American. "And that's why _**I **_can."

Xiao blinked, returning towards the exit. "Ignorant idiot. The one who can protect the stupid president is me." The male stepped through the door, glancing back momentarily. "I've told you before, haven't I? He doesn't need a hero." Eyes turned back to the empty hallway. "A hero like you anyways."

* * *

Alfred could only stare dumbfounded at the now empty doorway, his mouth dropped open. Did the Chinese male just challenge him over Arthur? And tell him that he couldn't be a hero?

He did.

A scowl fell over the American's features at the memory of the past event as he strutted over to Arthur's desk, pulling the black high back chair behind it towards the sofa. He seated himself on it, staring at the still sleeping Briton. Arthur's eyebrows were furrowed, even in his sleep, a small frown placed on his lips as he mumbled softly and incoherently in his unconscious state. Why was he always sleeping? Always tired? Always irritated?

Alfred poked the Briton on the cheek, earning a grumble yet not an awakening as his eyes never left the Brit. From his sources, A.K.A Kiku, Gilbert and Francis, Arthur held three jobs; one full time and two part-time, while at the same time was able to maintain his position as student council president and keep his grades up. Why did the Brit try so hard?

The blue eyed male furrowed his own eyebrows. Why did Arthur need to take so many jobs? Was he in debt or something? Hand trailing softly along the green eyed male's features, Alfred jabbed the other again once more, this time on the forehead. He didn't understand.

"Why won't you let me be your hero?" whispering softly, Alfred retracted his hands, kicking his feet roughly from the ground so that his seat was adjacent to the arm rest in which Arthur's head lay. He rested his arms on the free space, placing his head between them so that there was only an inch of space between himself and the other male. It was in that position that he remained for several moments before his eyes began to trail downwards, running along the smaller male's sleeping form. Arthur was clad in his customary forest green sweater vest, atop a white dress shirt, ironed and pressed. He was wearing dark blue jeans that clung neither loosely nor tightly along his legs and his shirt collar at the base of his neck was opened slightly, revealing just the smallest amount of chest. Alfred frowned. Before, he had seen that the Briton had pale white skin almost described as milky, but now, it seemed that blue and black spots littered his chest in droves.

The American swallowed, reaching for the Briton's collar, opening it slightly more. Bruises. A large number of bruises filled the small male's chest, almost overcoming the white skin that Alfred had come to adore. He had to force himself not to throw up the bile that was beginning to build up in his throat as he remembered. Xiao was staring at _Arthur's arm_ wasn't he? Hands reached towards the Briton's limb, rolling up the sleeve and revealing what should have been pale untainted skin. Alfred did not like the sight at all.

Even more so than Arthur's chest, almost his entire arm was covered in bruises, some yellow with healing, others fresh and dark. Alfred's breath caught in his throat as he could only stare, silent. What the hell was this? Why the fuck was Arthur so injured?

How could he not see something that was right in front of him?

_ ''If you can't even see something that's happening right in front of you, you don't deserve to call yourself a hero_'

Xiao's words crept back into his mind at his own question as Alfred bit his lip, examining the damage on the Brit. It was disgusting. Disgusting that someone could do this him. To this extent. And Alfred wasn't there to protect him.

"Shit..." Alfred swore, his voice barely above a whisper as he put forth his best effort not to wake the other. With these injuries, Arthur deserved the rest. "Who did this to you...?"

Alfred could bared contain himself from waking the other – to demand what happened. It took the entirety of his patience, a virtue not well practised, to keep himself from shaking the other into consciousness. But, the effort failed as Arthur, much to Alfred's disdain, began to grumble, his eyelids fluttering open. Emerald eyes gazed up at the American, still half lidded with sleep as the now semi-conscious male mumbled. "...what are you doing...?"

The American froze in place, Arthur's arm still in his grip as his own azure orbs met the others. It was decided in that split second eye contact that now that the boy was awake, it would be the best time to ask. Alfred wanted answers. "Arthur...where'd you get these bruises?"

Alfred swallowed hard, holding himself back from adding swears into his questions as to not startle the other male. But, the question itself was enough to snap the green eyed male into full alertness, emerald eyes wide as he looked to his arm, then to the American, his situation realized. With a jerk, Arthur snapped his hand back towards himself, pulling the ruffled cloth of his shirt back over his skin. His expression resembled that of a trapped animal as he shuffled backwards to the other end of the sofa.

"It's none of your bloody business!" Arthur hissed, his eyes falling deeper into panic. He couldn't let the stupid American know. Because then the boy would try to be the sodding hero. And he didn't want that. Arthur Kirkland wasn't weak nor did he need protecting.

In any normal case, Alfred F. Jones would have whined. Would have nudged the other repeatedly until patience broke at the secret was told. But this situation was serious. And, therefore, Alfred F. Jones would not take shit from anyone. Even Arthur. The man in question.

"Tell me." Alfred ordered, any trace of his customary smile gone from both features and azure orbs. "Who the hell did this?"

The American couldn't help but seep in the tiny swear into his second question, just a small preview of his inner fury. Alfred F. Jones was selfish. It was a given fact. And that's why nobody hurt _his _Artie. "Arthur Kirkland. Give me a fucking name."

The addressed teen neither answered nor reacted, his eyes widened in frozen shock. Never had he ever seen the American so angry. Alfred held an aura that would have matched his at his most utmost rage. An aura that had caused many delinquents in the past to fall to their knees in fear.

"I refuse." Arthur's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat with every repeated swallow as he tried to back away further from the American's darkening aura. It was so uncharacteristic. So strange to see the sunny blond without a smile or a pout. And it frightened him.

"Arthur..." The words barely came out as a whisper, it's tone almost forced. Alfred was out for blood for the person who did this, protective determination and wrath welling up into his chest. It was his duty as a hero. To protect someone important to him. And Arthur was important. To him, Arthur was...

Alfred's thought came to a halt before the last sentence finished, the dark aura around him simmering down ever so slightly. What was Arthur to him? To be so protective of someone like this...was it normal?

He didn't understand.

The American shook away the questions with his mind, focusing on everything that was in front of him. He wouldn't miss a single detail.

"Arthur. Just tell me what happened." Alfred spoke once more, the atmosphere lightening around him further. The Briton's frozen trance was broken, allowing him the freedom to move;.

"It's none of your bleeding business!" Earlier declaration repeated, Arthur pushed himself off the furniture, rushing towards the exit. He didn't need this. Not another problem. Not another argument.

Alfred reached for the him, taken aback by the sudden dash. His hands were left stretched out, grasping thin air where a smaller, green eyed Briton should have been - but wasn't. Arthur had already left.

* * *

He had ran.

Feet paced against cold, dusty flooring as he continued along the hall, a space trickling with students now that the bell was merely minutes away from ringing, neither looking back, nor forward. His eyes were directed to the ground, tracing each speck of dust as Arthur Kirkland began to lose himself in his thoughts. Nap disturbed, an idiot American poking his curiosity in places it didn't belong, physically and mentally worn, it wouldn't come as a surprise if the British teen lost his mind right where his stood. Not that anyone would have noticed. Arthur Kirkland would never allow emotions that didn't need to be seen to be shown. That was his rule.

Nothing unsightly to be shown equalled no unneeded gossip. No rumours.

It was his unspoken rule. One that he had broken continuously ever since the arrival of a loud blue eyed American. Didn't the boy care about his career at all? To declare that he would make the Briton fall in love with him was bound to start whispers. To go along with the declaration would begin words. Alfred accomplished things that even Francis, the man so careful of his appearance and popularity could never hope to attempt no matter how hard he wished. It was as if the boy never experienced the pain of being looked down on, for lies that never occurred. Naivety. Alfred was the very epitome of it.

That's why he annoyed Arthur so.

"Arthur Kirkland."

His train of thought cut short, Arthur turned at the sound of his name being called. A group of girls, one he had seen so often in the week, stood behind him, the Belgium girl once again at the forefront of the hoard.

"The roof."

Given the silent order, Arthur let out a long breath, scratching his head. Really, this sort of thing was such an annoyance. Why did he even allow this to happen?

His thoughts returned back to the American he had left behind. Of the annoying embraces and grins that came with him. And the fruitful innocence that always seemed to cause him irritation.

Alfred F. Jones was bothersome.

But, he was entertaining.

And amusing.

Arthur wondered. If the boy came to understand the situation...would he blame himself? Find himself at fault? Look at Arthur with pity? Quieten his attempts of befriending him?

That wasn't something Arthur wanted. So, he wouldn't say a word.

Feet directed the sandy haired blond towards the rooftop, his voice unheard as the door to open air closed behind him.

* * *

It wasn't over.

Determined, his heart filled with pure stubbornness, Alfred F. Jones wasn't going to let Arthur Kirkland have his way. Shit was going on without the American's knowledge and that was a fact that didn't sit too well with him. Not after what he had just saw. It was for that reason and that reason alone that Alfred had gone after his target. Spotted him and followed.

In stealth mode.

Back against a wall, Alfred had watched. Seen how Arthur spaced out while walking and observed when the girls came up to him, taking the British teen away. And, with the swiftness of a spy – not a stalker – the American trailed after them, keeping a hallway's length away from the group. Shoes tracked against stairs, climbing upwards towards a single metal door, unidentical to any other door of the school, which were all built out of wood material and painted a variety of colours. Compared to that, the entrance emanated a foreboding aura, the solid grey colour of the entrance resembling that of a door from hell, one that he had seen numerous times in his precious horror movies. Alfred inched towards the entrance, the one that Arthur had disappeared behind only minutes earlier, seating himself beside it. And listened.

* * *

Arms out in front of him defensively, Arthur endured the numerous blows to his limbs, pain disappearing into numbness with every kick. He knew his arms would eventually pay the price for the defence, but, compared to the lessened damage on his torso, it wasn't much to pay.

"We told you to stay away from Alfred, didn't we? !"

Words barely registered into the Briton's mind in his focus to ward off the legion of strikes. His breath was ragged, the build up of physical abuse getting the best of him despite his determination to keep it at bay. One had to wonder how the boy still managed to chuckle at his aggressors.

"What? You're jealous?" Arthur snickered, coughs of pain threatening to burst forth from his chest. "I never would have thought that bloody little vixens like you lot would have the intelligence to accomplish that."

The green eyed male's assertion earned him another kick.

"Shut up! If you just listened to us, this wouldn't have to happen!"

Arthur closed his eyes, opening them only moments later to examine the group in front of him. A hoard of purely girls of all senior high school grades were present, each with a varying determination in her eyes. It wasn't difficult to spot that many held doubts concerning their actions. The leader included. Of all the hits laid on him, none were received by the one who first approached him, Bella herself.

Initially, the girl had held herself with confidence, an emotion that slowly dwindled with every hit that the student council president endured. Now, the certainty in her actions were long gone, replaced with deep bags under the high school student's eyes along with an anxious atmosphere. Bella stepped forward, gazing down at the boy and gesturing for the rest of the group to ease off behind her.

"Why won't you fight back?" the Belgium teen whispered, the guilt in her eyes clearly evident. "This isn't what Antonio told me you were like."

Arthur tilted his head at the recognition of a familiar name. "Is that so?"

"He said that you were someone who'd fight back! That you were dangerous!"

Bella clutched at the sides of her jacket, fists shaking. "Why aren't you fighting back? !"

"Well, isn't this a cliched little scene." Arthur chuckled at the girl's small interjection, the sound of his voice cynical. "What are going to say next.? That this wasn't going to happen? That it's not your fault? It's mine? _**I'm so sorry?"**_

Bella flinched back at the Briton's sarcasm. Yes. She was going to say those things.

"I -"

Before the Belgium girl could begin her verbal self defence, the girls behind her stepped forward once again, resuming their previous misdemeanours and pushing her our of the way. She brought her hand out to stop it, but, her actions were once again interrupted by another.

"All of you. Stop it."

Blue eyes flashed with pure fury as a blond haired American took his place in front of the smaller male, putting a hand out as if to separate the male from the abusers.

Alfred F. Jones was angry. And let the world be damned if he didn't show it.

* * *

**A/N:**

**OH, SNAP! He knows! Okay, twelfth chapter you guys. Hope you enjoyed that. This chapter actually has only half of what I initially planned for it but I didn't want to disappear for a month soooo...here! Hmmm. Say, what'd you guys think of a little one-sided Hong Kong X England? Just to add a little drama? I had planned to add it in later chapters but drama was requested thus it came sooner than later. So here it is. But it's one sided so, people who don't support this pairing, no worries! This fiction's number one pairing is USUK and will always be USUK since it's my OTP. Always has and hopefully always will. Happy Halloween, you guys! Y'know, I just noticed that it's almost been exactly a year since I entered the Hetalia fandom and discovered fanfiction. Hahh...time sure passes by quickly doesn't it? It makes me laugh every time I remember my first reaction to fanfics. Locked myself in my room for a week, reading them when I should've been studying and sleeping. Aw, well! 'Till next time!**


	13. Sticks and stones

Shoes scraped against gritty cement as Alfred F. Jones took a determined stance, his feet spaced a shoulder width apart. A breeze – soft and calm – whistled in the American's ear, blowing small waves through his bomber jacket and hair, causing them to flit in the wind.

Alfred had heard.

He had listened.

To everything.

And, it pissed him off.

"What the fuck do you people think you're doing? !" Alfred growled, an uncustomary glare brewing behind azure orbs.

These people were his fans. The people who loved him, admired him, _adored him. _ A model was nothing without his fans, a celebrity was built on them. Alfred knew that. He cherished his admirers highly. They were the ones that worshipped him; held him in high esteem. The ones who gave him life as a model.

But.

They hurt Arthur.

Beat him.

And that was unforgivable.

"Answer me!" the blue eyed male bellowed angrily, his feet taking another step forward towards Arthur's female aggressors. Flinches of terror went unseen in his rage, fearful whimpers unheard.

"We...we couldn't take it anymore! We couldn't keep watching him insult you and treat you like trash all the time!"

Finally, a reply exited the lips of one lone girl in the crowd, who exactly, it was unknown. Alfred didn't bother to acknowledge the speaker, only the words spoken. To him, they were the same. They were all responsible for hurting what was important to him.

Therefore, they were all to blame.

"Who the hell asked you people to do this? ! Did I ever ask for your help? !" Alfred demanded, his voice on the rise. Despite the variety of school girls before him, Alfred eyes had already merged them into one enemy. A single monotonous group who dared to hurt what was precious to him.

"It was his fault! We warned him! We told him to stay away from you! He didn't listen!"

Alfred rage peaked at the statement, his fists tightening at his sides. Who the fuck did these people think they were? To act as if they had the right to tell people to avoid him. To try to control his life. He was Alfred F. Jones. A free hero.

"The people I keep as friends are none of your business! ! !"

At the confident declaration, Alfred F. Jones took another step forward as a show of determination, forcing the group backwards. The leader of the group, Bella, was already far behind, no longer able to find courage to associate herself with the crowd of females.

"...but, Alfred! Why do you have to be with **him**? !"

An arm shot out from the entity of females, stiff and erected in the direction of the fallen Briton, forcing the American to acknowledge a single one of them. A student, short and frail, soft brown hair falling on equally coloured eyes. From her appearance, the girl seemed to be the most reserved of the hoard But, her expression which cruelly leered down at the student council president, the crude gesture that pointed at him and her very words themselves contradicted the initial impression.

"Don't you know anything about, Arthur Kirkland? ! He's a murderer! !"

Alfred opened his mouth to rebuke the accusation, only to find that nothing could be said. A set of words travelled through his mind in a single moment, taken from a tale told by a certain Japanese boy.

_And the blame for the witch's death was placed on his shoulders._

"What the hell are you people talking about? !" Alfred questioned, his voice ready to flare in verbal defence for the Briton. He didn't believe them. There was no way Arthur could be a murderer. I mean, if he was, wouldn't he be in jail? But, he wasn't. So there was just no way.

"He killed someone!"

Alfred's eyes darkened at the cynical accusation, but, despite this, his curiosity pushed him to listen.

"Everyone knows about it! He killed his girlfriend just because she dumped him for Francis Bonnefoy!" The girl straightened an accusing finger at the sandy haired blonde, who, despite the assertions, didn't speak in his own defence. A smile played on the brown haired female's lips, following murmurs of agreement from the hoard behind her.

Alfred waited for Arthur to deny it.

To say that the claims were false. Tell the girls in that annoyed posh accent that he's heard so much that they were stupid; that they should just shut the bloody hell up. But, all that met his ears was silence.

"Arthur?" Alfred uttered the single name, turning his attention to the fallen Briton. Arthur was still seated on cold cement, his eyes directed to the ground. Silent and curled up towards himself, the green eyed male seemed so small. So frail. Alfred couldn't help but wonder. Was Arthur always this small? Alfred reached out for the smaller male in a comforting gesture. Never had Arthur looked so weak.

"Arthur?" the America repeated the other's name, his objective to garner any sort of attention from the seemingly dejected male. But, the moment emeralds met blue, Alfred, despite himself, wished that the attention was left unattained. Because, in an ideal situation, Arthur's would have thanked him, his eyes shining with gratitude, gaze filled with admiration. But, in reality, they were not. They weren't anything. Dim and dull, Arthur's eyes resembled that of the dead.

* * *

Arthur was bored. Bored, bored, bored.

From the moment Alfred had stepped into the fray, overshadowing the Briton and holding the foolish belief that he was protecting him, the numerous blows on him had stopped, causing the numbness to fade away and the pain to finally sink into his limbs. But, even if the unfeeling emotion had disappeared from him physically for the moment, mentally, it more than remained. It was much too laughable, really. To see just how predictable the American could be. The entire scenario of a valiant hero bursting into the midst of a battle to turn the tides of the villains was just so bloody clichéd.

Like a stupid fairy tale.

It wasn't as if Arthur Kirkland hated fairy tales, in fact he adored them. The unrealistic stories of sudden luck in a horrible situation, someone to be their shield and sword in any conflict- Arthur could easily lose himself in such a situation, forget about the hell he called reality. In such worlds, neither demeaning stares nor hurtful words could reach him. Were the situation to continue with as much predictability, it would have ended quickly, the aggressors leaving, the hero standing in pride. Nothing less, nothing more.

"Don't you know anything about Arthur Kirkland? ! He's a murderer! "

But, reality wasn't that kind. Unnecessary things always had to be said.

Arthur sighed quietly in the second of silence before the American responded to the question. He already knew what Alfred was going to say.

"What the hell are you people talking about? !"

So predictable.

"Everyone knows about it! He killed his girlfriend just because she dumped him for Francis Bonnefoy!"

So boring.

The Briton felt his conscious delve deeper into the back of his mind as he attempted to escape from his physical pain and strengthen his detached feelings.

"Arthur?"

The sound of a hopeful voice resounded through his ears, blocking his path into unconsciousness. It was repeated once more.

"Arthur?"

The emotion within the voice read, Arthur could easily understand Alfred's expectations for him. He wanted the Briton to claim the accusations false. To say that they weren't true. Arthur glanced up, his eyes the colour of murky emeralds as he met the American's anticipating gaze. It was sickening to see how much trust the boy put behind his blue eyes. Their relationship was supposed to be nothing more than a game. An amusing phase. But, the emotions that Alfred seemed to hold betrayed the very idea. Arthur closed his eyes, returning to darkness momentarily. The game wasn't fun anymore. With a smile to himself, the Briton closed his emerald pools, returning to darkness momentarily. He was going to end it.

"That's right. I killed her."

* * *

Alfred gazed down into Arthur's smiling face, a feeling of confusion growing with every second past. Why was the Briton smiling?

"W-what?" the American stuttered, his voice breaking in his throat. It was an action unfamiliar to him – someone so self confident and arrogant. Getting angry, stumbling on words...it was strange. Why wasn't he acting like himself today? It was unfitting for a hero. But he just...

"See! He admitted it! He's a murderer!"

...felt so irritated. Alfred returned his attention to the group of girls, mentally berating himself for forgetting their existence in the moment he had turned to Arthur.

"Do you get it now, Alfred? A disgusting person like him doesn't deserve to be friends with you!"

_What were these people trying to say?_

"He's nothing but dirt compared to you, Al! Since you're the hero!"

Alfred swallowed his patience, barely able to keep his anger restrained.

"We were just giving him justice! Because he's the bad guy!"

_Shut up._

"Someone like him deserves to suffer! Right, Al?"

The American forced bile back down his throat at the numerous cruel and ignorant words spoken. How could people be so stupid? To say things so hurtful, and to believe that he, the hero, would support their ideas? It took all the blue eyed male had to prevent his self control from crumbling. But, in spite of that, only a single push was needed to cause Alfred's composition to fail.

"You're the hero, aren't you, Alfred? Why don't you punish him a bit?"

The genuine cheer that seemed to reside within the high pitched female voice contradicted the horrid suggestion spoken, filling the American with disgust. Alfred's eyelids fell close, a short attempt to shut away the terrible situation he was confronted with. But, with determination to protect the person, the boy smiling so brokenly behind him kept his anger fuelled, his focus clear. As his eyes flew open, cold rage freezing the colour of sky blue orbs into ice, the sound of cracking prominently heard. But, whether the sound was from the fall of his restraint, or his knuckles was uncertain. The only fact apparent in the open space was: Alfred was angry.

"Would you bitches just shut the fuck up? !" Alfred snapped, icy orbs clouding with frost in his outrage, his fists clenched tightly at his side. The boy let out his entire breath, but still, the sirens refused to be quiet.

"B-but Alfred! This is for you! Everything we're doing is for you!"

Why? Why couldn't they just keep their pretty little mouths shut? Be seen but not heard? Their voices grated at his nerves. It was just so fucking irritating. He just wanted it to be quiet. Quiet, quiet, quiet. That's why...that's why...if they couldn't shut up on their own, he'd do it for them.

"Alfred?"

The American's own name failed to register in his clouded mind, as he felt but not recognized the movement of his arm rising above his head. Neither did the action of his limp falling sharply towards another human being as the single phrase 'Shut up' resounded through his brain. The only thing that jolted him out of his stance was the warmth of another around his wrist, and the clear deep voice and recognizable accent that he recognized so well.

"That's enough, Alfred."

A shot of clarity burst through the golden haired blond's mind at the voice, returning the American to awareness. His breath froze as the situation set in, his previous actions becoming known. The sight of Arthur's grip, separating a tense arm from a rigid outstretched palm, just inches from the cheek of a cringing girl, eyes clenched in fear – it would take a blind man to not understand the scenario. Alfred was about to slap her, wasn't he?

The American staggered backwards, his movements allowing the release of the Briton's hold on his limb. He relaxed his arm, shocked of what could have – no – would have occurred if not for Arthur's intervention. Alfred was a hero. Heroes never hit others; it was a number one rule, especially with women. But, if that was true, what was Alfred about to do?

"So, in the end, you're nothing but a child who can't control his temper, aren't you?" Arthur mumbled in an undertone, lazy eyes watching the American's steps. Alfred couldn't respond, thus, against his will, his fans answered for him.

"Don't insult him! Alfred's not a child!"

Arthur's pupils shifted to the direction of the opposite gender, his expression unchanging.

"Disgusting."

In the single moment in which the word was muttered, the bored expression that had remained fixed until then, distorted. An emotion of pure scorn circulated themselves within emerald pools, their negativity boring into the group adjacent to their beholder. "Really, you're blind admiration disgusts me."

Arthur tilted his head, examining the females in apparent silence, only proving to build their fear of him. This was the boy who had not lifted a finger when the first kick was landed, who had mutely endured the self believed righteous punishment that the girls had lashed out. But, standing before them, was someone of completely different stature, animosity and murderous intent simmering behind a wordless facade. Bella stepped even further away from the group, being the only rational one to identify the danger. Now, she understood. This was the person she was warned about. The one that was capable of attaching fireworks to a person's bike, and threatening them heartlessly.

* * *

"_Ah? Bella? You want to know about Arthur Kirkland?"_

_ The Belgium girl sat on the couch of her home, a Spaniard seated beside her with a struggling Italian caught between his arms. Antonio held a game controller in his hand, effortless focusing on a video game despite the hold he was struggling to keep on the male on his lap. At the mention of Briton, he visibly paled, though the smile on his face remained with an anxious chuckle._

" _¿Por qué?" the Spaniard asked, dropping his controller onto the floor as the words You died' filled the screen. The Italian swore, finding the chance to escape from the other's hold, pushing his palm against Antonio's face. Antonio laughed and held a tighter grip, rubbing his cheek against the antagonizing hand. "You're so cute, Lovino! Just like a tomato!"_

_ "Antonio, listen to me!"_

_ "Si, si! I'm listening!" the brunette turned his head towards Bella, burying his head in Lovino's chest, despite the huff he received. "Ah! Maybe you have a crush on Arthur! He is very nice to women!"_

_ Bella shook her head at the sudden and opposite conclusion that her friend came to. "No! I just want to know about his personality! You used to know him, right?"_

_ Antonio would have scratched his head at the question if he had not made himself comfortable in Lovino's chest, who had, by now, given up in struggling and decided that maybe taking a nap with his chin resting on the Spaniard's head wasn't such a bad idea. Antonio answered. "Ah. He acts very cold but, he actually daydreams a lot! He'll usually won't do anything if you insult him, usually call you stupid, but nothing else. But, don't insult any of his friends, okay?"_

_ "Why?" Bella questioned._

_ "A-ah." Antonio seemed to remember an event in his past as he responded with a stutter. " Do you remember what h-he did to me back then?"_

_ The Belgium female scowled at the memory. Antonio had been traumatized by the event to an extent in which he refused to speak for a prolonged period of time. Even after his time of silence had ended, the anxious back glances of fear for a certain Briton had lasted for months._

_ "I-uh..I knew Arthur when he was a delinquent so seeing him acting like a goodie two shoes was weird so I thought I'd make him mad a little. I insulted his ex-girlfriend...I didn 't know she was dead at the time." The Spaniard's eyes seemed to show guilt despite the chuckle that escaped his lips. "He's dangerous if he thinks you're a threat to someone he cares about. So, you should stay away from him."_

* * *

Bella was confused. What had they done to threaten someone Arthur cared about? The only people involved that Arthur had personally known prior to this situation was Alfred. And with the fights they constantly shared, there was no way. Her eyes immediately snapped to the American, noting his shocked expression, and the way he stared at his rigid hands in disbelief. It was Alfred. Alfred was the one who had triggered Arthur's agitation. But, it didn't make sense. Because it meant that Arthur cared about Alfred, that the American was important enough for the Briton to throw away the cold indifference that no amount of harm to himself could bring forth. Her mind fell to the relationship of her two close friends. Despite their constant fight, Antonio and Lovino were always close, always together. Was the two blonds' relationship similar?

"Leave."

Bella's confusion fell to the depth of her mind at the forceful sound of the Briton's voice. He was holding a no shit expression in his eyes, even as he turned his attention away from herself and her group, examining the American whom was staring blankly into thin air. She saw irritation, not for the blue eyed male but for the hoard that she had brought with her. It was then, that the Belgium understood. This was the boy Antonio warned her about. It was this version of Arthur Kirkland that was dangerous.

* * *

The positions of the two male's switched as Arthur stepped forward, confronting his own abusers, his supposed Hero staring at his own hands in disbelief. Had Arthur not chosen to stop the American's palm when he did, there was an absolute certainty that the mark would have been met. The events afterwards would have been certain and easy to foretell.

Firstly, the girl would have played the victim, with the entirety of her gang to back her up. It was sickening to know how easily society would succumb to the rumours- how quickly the media would be to extort any information they could. A scandal would have been created, one made of false lies and fabrications, demonizing Alfred as a violent aggressor in contrast to his target. Supposed friends would have become lost, isolating the male to a point in which he regrets and doubts his own actions. The assumed victim would then take advantage of the weakness, blackmailing the American behind closed doors, requesting 'compensation'. Knowing the woman, it would have most likely been a forced relationship in which the whore lived out her own sick fantasies. The end result was obvious. Alfred's life would have become a living hell.

And that- to the Briton- would have been rather unfortunate. But, what reason did Arthur have to care?

"I told you to leave," Arthur repeated his order, miffed by the solid defiance from the group. He had half a mind to just sigh and call it a day. To turn around, walk out the door and head to work. He was about to miss the bus if he stayed any longer anyways. But, despite his compulsion to carry his legs towards the exit, the moment he did so, the sight of the shocked American met his eyes, and he just didn't felt like it anymore. If he were to just leave, it would have been game over for the both of them, and that was what Arthur wanted, yet, still his feet refused to move. And that's why, he was still in this situation. In spite of the irrationality of it, he blamed the American.

"No! Why should we listen to you?"

Their defiance was shouted in unison, echoing through Arthur's ear drum, causing the Briton to flinch slightly at the volume as he rubbed his temples, annoyed. It wasn't fun to play the gentlemen anymore. Arthur sighed as he wondered what was the quickest way to force the people in front of him to walk out the door. From the moment the girls had first confronted him, he had dumbly believed that if he had just waited and endured, his abusers would eventually find boredom within their acts and end their foolish game. It was a shame it lasted longer than planned. If Arthur had not been a gentlemen, everything would have ended quickly. It would not have been him receiving the blows, nor would have Alfred believed he could play the Hero. The Briton came to a decision, letting out a forlorn breath once more. For the moment, if he wanted this to end, the gentleman would need to sleep.

Arthur lifted his chin, pompously leering down at the group before him as he answered the question. "Because I bloody said so."

The Briton's personality seemed to contradict itself completely in comparison to only moments earlier, as his stance shifted apart, unrelenting to the injuries that had been brought upon it. Utter arrogance was conveyed openly in his posture, a smirk, not the challenging one given so often to the American, but one of pure sadism plastered on his face as emeralds melted to venom, hidden by bangs of hair that only seemed to darken the Briton's face.

Alfred glance up, his shock close to fading as he shuffled slightly forward, quietly ashamed that his actions effected him so much, and how close he was to breaking his Hero code. He sneaked a quick peak at the sandy haired blond's visage, freezing in his spot. In spite of his situation, clear, familiar words passed threw his head.

_'__Overcome with regret, sorrow,and despair, the Gentleman became a monster. '_

Kiku's voice and words on Halloween night, circulated through his brain as he stared at the sick smile on Arthur's face as he glared down at his former aggressors, turning the tides upon them. He watched as the venom eyed male stepped forward, leaning closely to the female at the forefront – the one that looked the most innocent of the group, and the one that Alfred was only moment away from slapping.

"Oi...did you know?" Arthur's asked, his voice barely above a whisper, face just an inch away from the face of a fear filled woman. "You only have _my _leniency to thank for being able to act up to this extent...I wonder what's going to happen if that disappears?"|

Arthur felt small hands shove him away, a glare, not even close to matching his own ,meeting his gaze. "Shut up! You can't do anything to us! You're weak!"

The Briton swayed slightly under the force of the push. Yes, it was true, in his injured state, he was weakened more than a little bit. Though, that didn't mean he was powerless.

"Can't do anything? You really bloody think that?" Arthur chuckled, emotion absent in his voice, his eyes remaining closed a small fraction too long to be classified a blink. He reached a hand over, brushing a finger through the girl's hair. "You're really stupid, do you know that? If I wanted, I could break you right where you stand."

Alfred shivered at the tone of Arthur's voice, reminiscent to one who stated only facts. He had never seen the smaller male act as such, even in all states of annoyances and irritations. It was intimidating, to say the least. Alfred's sentiment was shared by all members present in the space as the girl slapped Arthur's hand away, taking a hurried step back. "Don't touch me! You're insane!"

The green eyed male chuckled, lowering his arm. "Bleeding hypocrite. I'm not the prat who decided an obsession would be enough reason to cause bodily harm to another." He brushed his hair back, revealing dangerously narrowed eyes. "Hey. All of you...do you value your futures?"

That single question, seemingly innocent, and out of place in the conversation confused the others, as Arthur did nothing to clear up the fog. It was only when questioned, did he reveal the meaning of his words, in the shape of a photograph.

Newly taken, vivid and unfaded, Arthur flashed a photo of a scene that he had come to familiarize himself in the last weak. Surrounded by girls – faces of each one easily recognizable- as well as himself on cold ground, bloodied and bruised.

"It'd be a shame for all of you if this were to circulate around the school, would it not?"

Arthur laughed lightly at the horror written on the visage of each girl. He had found the picture not long before, peeking out of a pocket of Kiku's bag. The plan had been to confront the boy about it, yet, the photo itself seemed to serve another use after all.

"You wouldn't! That picture would effect you too!" The hoard took their final stand of denial, throwing out a chance at the threatening male, who, in response, could only smile.

"So?" he chuckled once more at their audacity. "Sticks and stones may break you bones, but words will never hurt you, correct? I have long steeled myself against these sort of things. But, I doubt it's the same for any of you."

Bella, being the one with the most rationality, stepped forward, attempting to coax the group that she created into listening to the male. "Hey, guys...this is enough. We should go."

She was brushed off; shoved to the side.

"We'll tell everyone you photoshopped the picture to blackmail us! Then you'll be the only one to take the fall!"

Arthur slowly folded the photo before carefully tucking it into his back pocket. He smiled darkly, sneering at the threat to lie. "Who do you think I bloody am, girl?I'm student council president. Bring that up and who do you think they'll believe? Me or you?"

The girl countered. "We out number you!"

"Numerous bugs swarming around are insignificant," the Briton threw back, smirking. "The entirety of this school wouldn't even bat an eyelash were I to leave here after returning the favour of what you've done to me!" He flashed a small area of bruised skin, to accent the weight of his statement. The result of their own actions in their sight -more than words themselves seemed to have a hold over the little conscience the group seemed to have. Bella took advantage of the indecision once more. "C'mon! We need to leave!"

With the power of the student council president pushing upon them from the front and their comrade pressuring them from behind, the decision to leave was finally made. Slow steps of caution were made to avoid the Briton as the females toed around him, not sparing a glance at the American despite him being the reason everything began. Bella, maybe as sign of regret, nodded in apology at the both of them as she closed the door behind her. Unbroken silence remained as Arthur himself began to head to door. But, Alfred stood in the way, blocking the exit from view. Arthur broke through the dead sound first.

"Are you stupid?"

The smaller male's eyes still remained abnormally dark as he enquired, his stance erected proud and tall as he fixed his crumpled clothing. Alfred was perturbed by the very sight of what had occurred only moments before, and in the sudden dark turn of Arthur's personality. He had seen Arthur angry, yes, but, usually the Briton would manifest his emotions in sarcasm, challenge, defensive insults - even non murderous punches and kicks. To see him today, in utter seriousness in threats to harm was a strange sight. And one Alfred never hoped to see again. But, why had Arthur acted that way?

"I said, are you stupid?" Arthur repeated, his head tilted at Alfred's silence. The American was deep in thought, questions smothering his consciousness. Out of reflex, he automatically snapped back at the insult to his intelligence, a customary whine present behind his voice.

"Hey! I ain't stupid!" Alfred objected against the belittlement, standing his ground. He puckered his lower lip incessantly at the smaller teen. For a single second, in a blink and you'll miss it moment, Arthur seemed to have smiled softly at the American's childishness – as if he enjoyed their foolish exchanges. But, just like all quick moments, the smile disappeared, not remaining long enough for it to be certain if the small expression was reality or imagination. The Briton responded to the objection with his eyes directed downward, his expression was left unseen. "You _are _foolish. If you weren't you wouldn't be here."

* * *

Arthur felt tired.

Of course, the feeling was chronic, hours upon hours of work and education ensured that, but, simply standing in a breeze of cold air, it felt as though his knees would buckle at any moment. He wanted to fall to the ground and think nothing of the dropping temperature, and the hard cement awaiting him below. All he wanted was to sleep, for everything around him to fade to darkness, the walls of his spirit closing himself off from every sight, sound and memory. Away from the foolish American before him. Yet his mind refused to fall.

"Hey! If I weren't for me, you'd still be getting your ass beat down by a couple of chicks!"

Arthur could hear the indignation in Alfred's voice; the disappointment of not being acknowledged clearly evident. He could almost laugh at how childish the boy was - how easy it was to distract him and make him happy with the most insignificant of things. It was a wonder how a boy such at he, already seventeen of age could remain so naive and ignorant to the shortcomings of society. At the beginning, Arthur had been disgusted at the male's blatant show of arrogance, sneered at the self assured confidence to his step and the way he always gazed forward, never behind. It shocked him that even when he had first introduced himself as 'Arthur Kirkland', Alfred, instead of knowing who he was, had been ignorant to the Briton's identity and had wondered how _he _did not know the name of the other.

Four years ago, his name had been printed on the front page of every news paper in the city and had covered at least a single article of cross country news as well as foreign ones .Known for his involvement into the death of Jeanne Deark, the previous 'Hero' of Bonneland Modelling agency.

Alfred's predecessor.

Arthur had been truly perturbed at how deep the American's ignorance ran, questioning the sincerity behind every gesture, every word said. But, many had worked to bury the story deep, and the majority of society – with few exceptions – were kind enough to label the events that occurred as 'old news' moving onto newer scandals, so, in a way Alfred's lack of awareness could be easily placed on how well the story was buried. In spite of annoyances, the way Alfred looked at Arthur with a trusting gaze, unsaturated with suspicion, his eyes lighting up at every recognition had been refreshing, and after a short while, had even become welcoming. If only jealousy had not had it's way, leading blind fans to his direction, it may not have come to the current situation. And if Alfred's curiosity had kept him from shoving a spade into his past, nothing about who he was would have needed to be revealed. Shaking his head softly to himself, Arthur pushed aside his thoughts, returning his attention forward. The stage of innocence was over and Alfred, whether he wished to or not, would found out exactly how much of a horrid person Arthur Kirkland was. With a cold snicker to himself, the Briton made a sick realization to himself as his eyes met the other male's blue orbs: if this truly was a game, part one of the story would be over, wouldn't it?

But, unlike a game, there was no restart button. No save points in which one could redo mistakes that they had done. In reality, lives could not be relived, mistakes could not be undone; truths could not be untold. Nevertheless, Arthur had to end it. Their game. Their stupid, bloody, hurtful, game.

"Hey, Alfred. That's enough with your bloody Hero antics," Arthur mumbled the words just barely loud enough to reach the American's ears. The lack of volume caused the boy to focus his complete attention to the male in front of him just to hear the other's voice. Arthur continued to speak. "I don't ever remember asking for your bloody help. That's why I need to sodding ask you: why the fuck are you here?"

The Briton's tone had once more hardened, an uncomfortable but needed determination in his eyes and heart. By the time either of them left the room, Alfred would certainly hate him, and curtain would finally be pulled on ignorance.

"I'm here because I wanted to save you, of course!" Alfred declared his reason proudly though his face still held the disappoint of being unacknowledged. His counterpart just sighed tiredly as he spoke. "When did I ever asked to be saved?"

Arthur swayed slightly as he paced towards the larger of the two, successfully leering down at the male despite height differences. "I never asked. That's why what you did was uncalled for."

"Protecting people who don't even ask for it is nothing more than selfishness on your part, the only thing it does is satisfy your bloody ego."

The Briton acted as though he was stating nothing more than facts, the arrogance shown previously to the group of the opposite gender lost. In contrast to the monotonous facade, Alfred's disappointment had morphed to slight anger at his heroic values being questioned.

"How could I not help after seeing them beat you to a bloody pulp ? ! You were letting them push you around! You even agreed with them when they called you a...murderer..." Alfred faltered in the midst of his passionate outburst realizing how off topic he had become. The American had unconsciously allowed the other to change the conversation in such a way that an important issue was left to fade. But, idea renewed, Alfred was curious.

"Why did you let them call you that? Why did you smile?" the blue eyed male voiced his concerns, refusing to play the part of an arrogant fool any longer. In response to Alfred's emotions, Arthur blinked, his eyes remaining closed for a single moment too long before he answered, words cold. "Why are you even acting like you bloody care?"

By the look of Arthur's stance, a head tilt with his hands loosely dropped to his side, the boy seemed genuinely curious an expression that only added to the heartlessness of his question. Within the moment of understanding the boy's words, Alfred felt a weight drop through his chest and, at the Briton's next words, the heaviness only grew.

"We're playing a bloody game, are we not? Shouldn't you be happy that you're opponent has been weakened? It'd make an easier for you, wouldn't it?"

Newly born emotions were continuously being stabbed within the American as he continued to listen to the other. Was that really how Arthur saw him? A selfish, oversized child that thought nothing but of his own wins and losses?

"I'm not happy at all!" Alfred burst out, his nails beginning to dig into his palms at the tension of his tightly clenched fist. The American hated how Arthur would always find a way to antagonize him, even in a situation when the role he played was the good natured Hero. He had followed the Briton up to the roof because he was worried, right? Not just because he was curious. Did he not jump in to save Arthur when he was constantly being physically berated?

Alfred was the Hero. Is. So, why couldn't Arthur play his own role and allow himself to be protected? Why did he have to question it? But, that didn't matter. Because Alfred was the Hero, and heroes, no matter what, won out in the end.

"I'm the Hero! Of course I'd care! The Hero always acts when the weak gets attacked!" No matter what the situation, Alfred always seemed to find an opening to flash a tooth shining grin- the one that would have anyone fall at his feet, with the exception of Arthur and a few others. In his naive outburst, the blue eyed male missed the way the smaller of the two twitched at being referred to as weak. He continued on, overlooking the way Arthur's coldness was slowly being replace by suppressed rage. "You're weak! That's why I've got to protect you, since I'm the Hero!"

His fuse shortened profusely by the constant burdens placed on himself both physically ans mentally over the past few days, words that would have been once brushed off with irritation held an entire different impact to the Briton in his weakened state. Arthur hated being called weak. Weak people easily crumbled to pressure. Something that he did not. They couldn't stand on their own without help of others, another idea that the green eyed male contrasted. Arthur Kirkland was not weak. And if the other thought otherwise, he'd prove him wrong.

"Shut that sodding mouth of yours, you bleeding prat!" the Briton growled at the younger male substituting apathy with anger as he sharply tugged Alfred by the collar of shirt, stretching blue cotton fabric. "I'm not here just so you could masturbate with your bleeding ego!"

Originally, Arthur had decided to end the game cold, to be the one to cruelly break down the American's ego to a point where Alfred no longer wished to involve himself with the Briton. But, always, the child would just brush it off as if it were nothing. Always he would just smile and proclaim himself the bleeding Hero, as if just his existence brought people to their own personal nirvana. It was stupid at how Alfred could never get bored of it all. The glamour, the fame; the lies. Even with their foolish challenge living over a month and still going strong, the American did not show the slightest bit of frustration of the lack of results between them. Their relationship still shared a semblance to game of cat and mouse: chasing and being chased with the exception of Arthur being more feisty than a mouse should be, and Alfred's personality resembling that of a dog. It was strange that Alfred, with his short attention span, had not already switched his attention else- to someone more _willing. _To see a man childish and optimistic, already at the age of seventeen, it was hard for Arthur to believe that a person and in the modelling industry no less, could remain as optimistic. It was as if Alfred was blind to the hardships of world. And that, more than anything else, was what Arthur hated about the

American. His arrogance came second.

"Why don't you just bleeding admit it already? !" Arthur continued on with his rant, dropping his hold on the larger male as he shoved himself backwards, slapping a hand to his forehead in frustration. "The only reason you still involve yourself with me is because you're fucking annoyed. You can't stand the sodding fact that someone _**won't **_bow down and kiss your feet whenever you flash that smile of yours!"

"No way! That ain't it!" Alfred denied, his face forming his pout, an expression that always seemed to irk the Briton. It was surprising to see how quickly the blue eyed male could heal from a shot to himself when, only moments earlier, he was in shock at raising a hand to a woman. Arthur could only scoff as he rebuked the denial. "Then what? ! What could compel you so strongly that you'd always come back even after I'd tell you to bloody not to? !"

" I keep tellin' ya, right? I'm gonna save you from your grumpy self by making you fall in love with me!" Alfred grinned, patting his chest as he snorted air out of nose proudly. Arthur could almost laugh at the repetitive scene. It was strange how easy one could fall back into on old habits. What was it that would always happen after Alfred would declare he'd make the Brit in love with him? Arthur would call him a git, right...? Then, the Briton would commit an act of violence to force the American swallow back his words. A punch usually sufficing.

"You git! It's impossible for that to happen!" Arthur stated, his voice a level more monotonous than previous times. He clenched his fist, preparing for the expected punch he was supposed to make. If he did so, maybe everything would return to 'normal' the event that occurred where they were standing left forgotten. The Briton glanced at his fist then to the American. Was that what he wanted? For everything to remain unchanged?

Arthur lifted his arm, tensing it as he allowed it to fall in the direction of the larger. Though, in the split second to impact, the Briton's direction changed, moving upwards, fist loosening.

* * *

Eyes shut tightly in expectation for the blow, Alfred had his arms in front of him, in protection of his gut and family jewels. The blow was most likely going to land in those two places, and he was ready for them. But, when he felt pressure to his chin, surprise swept through him along with the split second though of: 'shit! He's going to hit my face!' Alfred snapped his eyes open, flinching slightly at the unforeseen sight of Arthur's emerald eyes just an inch from his face. Arthur was gripping the American by the chin as if he was planning to inspect the other but, that idea was quickly proven wrong when Alfred could no longer see anything around him with the exception of green emeralds and pale skin as Arthur jerked him even closer, forcing their lips together. Stunned, Alfred's eyes widened slightly along with his mouth allowing entrance of a wet muscle into his lips. His mind clouded, Alfred could barely comprehend the situation, let alone question. The only reality that he was clear of was that...he and Arthur?

They were kissing.

* * *

** DUUUDES. Sorry, for disappearing. (Damn! Why does it always seem I start my author's notes like this all the time?) I'm working on a secret santa for the usxuk community on LJ so my time's been pretty much taken up. I hope this somewhat long chapter slightly makes up for it. But damn, I feel like such a troll right now, since I've gotta focus on the secret santa to meet the dead line and I'm leaving you guys with a cliff hanger. I actually had this certain scene in my head to end this chapter with that wasn't a cliff hanger but then it got way too long for my liking and yeah. So I've turned into a troll for the moment. Sorry. T_T Thanks for the reviews thus far, they really help break my writer's block with motivation.**


	14. Who knew?

_Chapter 14: Who knew?_

Alfred could not comprehend the situation; didn't even try nor want to. Arthur's lips, both soft and demanding, were on his, hands clasped in a desperate grip to keep the American close. The question why fluttered meaninglessly around his brain, fading in and out of his consciousness. But, with the heat of Arthur's body against his, higher powers (lower, more like) seemed to push the question out of his mind. Along with any remaining common sense. The lust; Arthur's body...they were all he needed to know. All he wanted. And he craved for more.

More Arthur. More heat. More skin.

The selfish, greed filled mantra filled the blue eyed male's mind as his body moved accordingly. Hands found their way onto Arthur's smaller frame, one tugging at the sandy haired locks at the back of the older teen's head - gripping at the soft blond, keeping the male's lips in place. Another at his waist, pressing their bodies together as if unconsciously wishing to meld the two together.

"Arthur," Alfred all but moaned the Briton's name around his lips, bringing the other impossibly close.

With Arthur in his arms, Alfred could feel his heart soar. It was if all his dreams, all his desires, had come to focus in that single moment – concentrated in the single entity known as Arthur Kirkland. He felt like a child who had just been rewarded a toy for his hard work, but, his mind told him: Arthur wasn't a toy, he was a something else – something unexplainable. His body leaning into the kiss, deepening it and adding tongue, Alfred cursed his lungs. In spite of his utmost wish to continue to tongue-fuck the other male (sensually, of course), his body rivalled his mind, burning with a passion that Alfred did not quite wish for. He gasped, body sucking air through the mouth where Arthur's tongue had once been. Once more, Alfred swore at his lungs for their inability to hold out longer. And, as he leaned in for another kiss, he cursed his sight as well. Because, if he had been a blind man, he would not have seen the emotion in the green eyed male's eyes.

Lust? Yes, it was there. And that was an emotion Alfred welcomed and anticipated. After all, for a teenage male to not be even the least bit aroused in this situation would either be strange, asexual or homophobic. All of which, with the exception of strange, Alfred was sure Arthur was not – if reading porn books in public and kissing a guy was any explanation. But, what Alfred had seen underlying that was not something he would wish nor welcome.

Resignation.

Not love. Not desire. Just utter and complete submission.

It was as though Arthur's eyes conveyed himself a tortured man, inwardly begging for death to overcome him. And, at that realization, the force that kept Alfred's rationality at bay simply faded.

He shoved the smaller male away from him lightly, managing to choke out a single word in his body's desperate attempt to replace the air that Alfred had lost in the action of holding a kiss. "Arthur?"

At the sound of his name, the student council president glanced up, his lips still beautifully swollen from his previous actions. But, as blue melded into green, Alfred could only confirm his suspicions. Arthur didn't want this. So why was he doing it?

Alfred awaited an answer, frowning slightly when the smaller male seemed to remain in a daze. Arthur's eyes seemed to be glazed over in an aftershock of the kiss and, despite the sight of resignation in green pools, Alfred was glad that, out of everything, disgust was not present.

"Hey. Artie? You there?" Alfred asked, shaking the other male lightly, an action that the Briton seemed to respond to. Though, fortunately or otherwise, the fact that Alfred had pushed away did not ease the previous pissed off vibes that the smaller had radiated before the kiss. Arthur voiced the repeated question that was at the forefront of Alfred's thoughts.

"Why?" Arthur questioned, his eyes narrowed, iris's darkened to a forest green. It was as if he was finding difficulty contemplating the reason of Alfred's rejection. And that the fact that he himself was the one responsible for pulling the American into an aggressive kiss was untrue. In response to the spoken question, Alfred frowned, bringing his eyebrows to a tight knit above his eyes. His expression was disbelieving and confused; in wonder of the reason why Arthur would be the one questioning their actions.

"Dude. C'mon, that's not fair," Alfred whined, the post-rescue, chick flick, and not to be aforementioned lust filled euphoria dwindling in his growing state of confusion. He did sort of rescue the princess – in the beginning. So, he supposed, he did deserve the kiss, but, not an obligatory one. "If we're gonna have some hot one on one action, it hurts if you don't really want it! I mean, you're acting like do…but I'm a hero! I can tell you don't really!" The American stared into emerald eyes in earnest. "I want you to be honest with me!"

The tension to Arthur's shoulder's eased a slight bit at the response, though the pain seemed to remain present both physically and mentally. His gaze dulled as he bit the inside of his lip; the darkness behind them permanently etched. Then, with his eyes still dimmed, Arthur laughed. Loud, jubilant and sudden: a genuine laugh.

One that completely conveyed just how broken the green eyed male was.

"Oh, really?" Arthur snorted, placing a hand at his stomach to calm the racks of pain that came with his laughter. Alfred twitched back at the sound, cringing at the green eyes that only accented its lifelessness.

"Hypocrite."

The Briton stated the single title as an accusation, his entire focus trained on the blue eye male in front of him. Hands reached out as they did before to grasp at the American's collar, jerking him downwards so their eyes were just an inch of each other; barely short of a second kiss.

"You realize you're a bleeding hypocrite, don't you?" Arthur muttered, his breath falling on Alfred's face. It's scent was a mix of earl grey and peppermint, just a hint of blood behind it. Even in his current situation, the American couldn't help but wonder if Arthur had bitten his lip as they kissed; he had not tasted any of the red liquid in their vivaciousness.

At the back of his mind, Alfred pushed away all thoughts that cried out that Arthur, short tempered, blond haired Arthur Kirkland could be a possible threat to his well-being. That maybe, that his current situation belied a danger that Alfred F. Jones, despite being a hero, could not understand. And, the possibility, with all that was going on with the character of Arthur Kirkland: the beating; the responsibility of being a council president; the stress of multiple jobs and school; as well as the death of someone dear to him, Arthur Kirkland, in some way could be damaged.

Unstable.

"What?"

The sound of the question was hardly louder than the wind; it's volume a reflection of Alfred's uncertainty. He could barely wrap his head around the situation. Just seconds ago, they had been kissing. Just seconds ago, Alfred had believed that maybe all would be well. What the hell was happening?

And why couldn't he understand any of it?

"Really?" Arthur rolled his eyes with a snort; a semblance of the arrogant, familiar student council president just barely beginning to surface. He allowed the blue eyed male freedom from his grip as he took a minuscule step backwards. "I repeated myself twice and you _still _don't understand? Git."

Alfred processed the situation in his head, noting the familiar banter that was returning to the situation. This was the beginnings of an argument; an argument that had repeated itself endlessly since they had first met. All Alfred had left to do was defend himself: say he wasn't an idiot- a hero, instead – and all would become well.

Stable and monotonous once more. Just one sentence was needed: '_I'm not a git!'_

_ I'm not a git. I'm not a git. I'm not a git!_

"I…" Alfred began. "I don't understand."

The American stared up at the green eyed Briton, repeating his words with more confidence, a second time 'round. "I don't get it! How am I a hypocrite? Why are you acting so weird? It's like you're PMSing! First we were kissing, then you weren't happy with it and now you're mad! I don't get it!"

Unfortunately, in the case of Alfred F. Jones, more confidence in his words, meant less tact. And it was Arthur's role in such situations, to answer with words just as condescending as Alfred's confidence. And that was just what he did. But, the familiar tone was lost with Alfred's answer.

"It would have been better if you'd had just taken that chance, fool. You might've been able to forget this entire bloody situation."

Arthur sighed, his hair drifting over his face, just barely covering the intensity of his emerald eyes. The light of the evening had caused shadows to cast over the smaller blonde's visage, causing the grimness of his face to deepen.

"It's not sodding fair?" Arthur accentuated the question, mirroring the American's previous words with a sneer. "It's not fun if it's one sided?"

Alfred swallowed, not at all fond of the direction the conversation – if you could call it that – was going. He had heard it all too much before. Just because a person was popular didn't mean everyone loved him. Hell, Arthur was someone who exemplified the point.

"Why, that's not true." The Briton carried on with his words, brushing his hair out of his face, revealing a surface of mirth glazing his eyes. "Having fun doesn't at all have to do with emotions, does it? All you need is whatever feels good – whatever it is. I mean, I'm sure you've had 'fun' with multiple people before, without reciprocating their admiration for you: people not unlike the ones who just left the roof.

Alfred was right. He despised the path where the conversation was heading: what Arthur was implying.

"What are you trying to say?" Alfred asked, though he was fairly certain of the answer. He may be one to lean towards ignorance, but, experience in the modelling field had forced him to face all types of accusations. And what Arthur was doing was the one he faced the most. And the one, as a hero, he utterly hated.

"What I'm trying to say is…" Arthur answered. "What's the point of acting like a hero, when everyone knows you're not even close to one?"

The Briton hunched his shoulders forward, peering into the frown that he himself had placed on the blue eyed male's face. "Don't even bloody lie. You were going to accept the invitation that I was offering, weren't you? You're a hypocrite for stopping when you've probably accepted multiple ones before mine."

Alfred was not a short tempered person. He wasn't one to anger easily. But, at this point of time, he truly, truly, felt justified of doing just that. And being one who acted on impulse, he did. At the implications, the American's outgoing demeanour sobered, bringing on a posture that one would associate to a person about a decade older. For the probably the first time in the span of months since the Briton and American first met, Alfred spoke in an even tone, absent of even the tiny whine that tended to accompany his voice when he was upset.

"You're wrong. _I'm_ not like that. _A hero isn't like that_," Alfred grit out, his eyes reflecting the belief he held in his own words. But Arthur was persistent. _He just would not stop_.

With a tilt of of his head, the Briton replied with the same light mirth that reflected off his eyes. "Ah, but you're not a hero, are you?"

The American opened his mouth to counteract the statement; but, before he could respond, Arthur continued.

"A hero is defined as someone who saves people. Thus, for a hero to exist, there must be people in trouble, correct?" Arthur explained, gazing right into the taller male's eyes. Alfred was beginning to get more agitated. But still, Arthur did not silence himself; it was America after all: the country of free speech and all that. "But, there's no one here to save, Alfred. Did I ask for help? Did I say that you were needed?"

The smaller of the two flicked the other on the chest, ignoring the sharp intake of breath in the man in front of him.

"There is no tragedy in this story for a hero to exist. Therefore, you are not a hero, Alfred F. Jones." Arthur stated simply. "You are nothing more than an icon that the population exploits for entertainment. _Eye candy. A whore of the public."_

For the moment, Alfred forgot.

The very reason that he had run up to the roof; the wishes he had to save a person.

And, when Arthur was on the ground, a bruise blooming on his cheek; he still did not remember.

All he saw was the man who insulted him. The person who did not respect nor thank him.

And thus, the feelings of minutes earlier could no be recalled.

"Shut up! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Alfred yelled at the figure on the ground, his vision blinding in anger. Why would the man say such things? Why could he insult him like that?

The American lifted up him arm, leaning forward for another blow. But he froze when Arthur did not flinch nor blink at the incoming attack. It was unnerving. So, instead, Alfred yanked the smaller male up by the collar, looking the other in the eye. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Arthur responded calmly, as if the current situation was unworthy of any emotion. "Oh, a lot of sodding things. Where would you like me to start?"

Alfred grit his teeth, dropping the Briton to the cold cement ground. "I don't like you anymore."

A short silence was exchanged between the two before Arthur responded with a simply smile. "If it's any consolation, I never liked you."

The blue eyed teen ground his teeth harder, swallowing his anger with an empty expression. "...fine."

With that single answer, Alfred shot a look of grievance towards the fallen male. He turned his back to the door, leaving with a flap of his bomber jacket just as he entered. Lucky for him, he didn't hear the words that Arthur muttered once the door slammed shut.

"I win."

* * *

Arthur rested his head on the hardened cement, staring up at the sky that was beginning to cloud. He reflected on his actions: the kiss.

He didn't know why he did it.

Hell, he didn't even know what spurred it on. It was as if his body had reacted on its own, fulfilling some sort of innate desire that he didn't understand. But the moment his mind had caught up; the moment he realized the situation he was in, regret and confusion was what hit hardest.

Why was Alfred not pushing him away?

Then Arthur remembered the game: the game in which Alfred declared that Arthur would fall for him.

And the Briton understood. It was a ploy; saving him; being kind to him; pretending to love him.

With that idea eating away at his thoughts, the green eyed blond resigned himself to kiss. Yet, Alfred had to be the one to push him away. To ask: what was wrong? To say: it was not right if the two of them did not want it – acting as if he cared about Arthur's well-being.

It was just an act. It was not real. A simple fling that Alfred F. Jones happened to took fancy to. So how dare he act that it was something more. _How dare he make it seem that what they had was more than a simple game. Make Arthur think that maybe the American deserved his trust._

Arthur found it unforgivable. So, he made the first offence: attacked his enemy. Verbally; mentally; emotionally.

And he won.

"I win." Arthur laughed to the air, knowing full well that no one would hear him. He wondered if anyone would even care if they did. "I didn't fall in love with him. He hates me now so he'll stay away. _I won."_

The Briton staggered to his feet, taking his first step towards the exit. He stumbled, gravity throwing him back to the ground. It hurt. It really did. No matter how tough he acted; nor how sarcastically he brushed off pain – it didn't change the fact that it was still there.

Arthur coughed a bit, rubbing his chest as if to warm the air in his lungs. Then he tried once more to bring himself to stand. But, once again, gravity seemed to enjoy his presence. So he remained as he was – grounded.

The green eyed teen couldn't help but think how fitting it would be if it began to rain: yet neither from the sky nor his eyes did the water fall.

The world simply moved on; ignorant of everything that was happening below it.

* * *

Alfred stormed into his home, dropping everything at the entrance corridor; his coat, his bag. He was pissed off, and anything that heard him slam the door knew it.

"Eh? Al, what's wr-"

The American stomped past the worried form of his twin, not bothering to give an answer as he retreated to his room; shutting the door behind him. He yelled out irrationally, letting out a small percentage of his anger before diving onto his bed.

Posters of superman; batman; the Avengers – any superhero nameable to the average American citizen stared down comfortingly at him in silence though the teenager felt no consolation.

Arthur Kirkland was a rude, insulting bastard. And he was wrong about him.

Alfred nuzzled his face into his pillow – a red and white cushion of the American flag. He had tried to be nice to the Briton. He had made an effort to befriend him; but Arthur continued to be all-around hateful.

He couldn't understand it.

His face still buried into his bed, Alfred simply laid without a thought; waiting for his anger to past. Whether it was a minute or an hour, it did not matter to him. But, the moment he was calm enough to think, he did the one thing he hoped most people did when they were angry at someone.

Google them.

The American flipped open his computer, running the web browser and navigating it until he reached the google search bar. The moment he typed in the 'A', his own name popped up in the suggestion – a saved search from previous visits. In his defence, it was 'cause he was curious about what his own fans thought about him.

He hit enter, waiting for the page of results to load: the first being a link to an article.

_Murder mayhem or s__imple mayhem?_

_Arthur Kirkland,14, son of the prestigious international modelling company Kirkland corps. CEO has been informally accused of the murder of Jeanne Deark, 15, in a tragic fire that raged in the west end of the city. The cause of the fire is currently unreleased by the authorities but it is known that the building destroyed was an abandoned apartment building that was scheduled for demolition. Though it is unknown why the two were present in a desolate structure, the public is accusing the young boy of murder based on circumstantial evidence. In contrast, the police are saying that accusations are unfounded..._

Alfred swallowed, struggling to wrap his head around the information.

Arthur Kirkland was related to the CEO of the Kirkland corps. - a co-founder of the Bonneland modelling agency. Did that make him his superior?

Not only did the Briton's girlfriend die; he was accused of her murder as well. It must've been untrue though...'cause there was no way he would be free if he did, right?

The American went back a page, clicking on a second link: another article.

_Was his innocence bought?_

_Recently released information has dictated Arthur Kirkland not guilty on all charges. The son of the CEO of Kirkland corps. was found to be not guilty on the accusations of arson and the murder of Jeanne Deark – a model on the American based company Bonneland modelling agency. An enraged public are incriminating both the court and Kirkland corps for possible corruption and bribery in the teen's release. How negatively the effect of this is having on the international agency is unknown but, the British company assures that they, by no means, were involved in court._

Alfred slumped back onto his bed, stumped by everything he had just read. He didn't know what kind of conclusion he should draw from the information. How he should look at Arthur knowing what he knew.

Now he understood the warnings. The words of caution to stay away from the one called Arthur Kirkland.

This was the reason. Not just the student council president's attitude. _This._

But was any of it true?

"_You killed her!"_

Before the blue eyed male had time to organize his thoughts, his computer broke the choking silence. Alfred scrolled down the page of the article website, finding that a video had already loaded and begun to play itself without his knowledge.

The first that Alfred noticed was Arthur. Placed strategically at the centre of the video, he could be seen descending the stairway of a courthouse. The very moment he reached the sidewalk, a crowd of people reached him, thrusting microphones in his face. Questions were jumbled together; an incomprehensible static of sound.

But, Alfred could hear the accusations. The insensitive inquiry asking how he felt when he murdered Jeanne Deark. And Alfred could see the despair behind the not yet fully formed mask of a young Briton.

Arthur's figure was hunched in the video, a contrasting figure to the proud and sarcastic figure he knew today. Most of the footage was of the teen trying to get away from the crowd, his lawyer working to keep reporters at bay. But, someone in the mass of people must've said something. Because Arthur turned towards them, bursting out with a shout.

"_I didn't kill her! It was accident! She...I..!"_

Arthur's voice cracked – a sure sign of someone still entering the age of puberty. It was a bit humorous when thinking of the deep voice that the male would have in present time. The young Arthur continued to defend himself to the crowd, despite the tug of his lawyer away from the people.

"_Liar."_

The audio of the accusation was amplified in the video, as was Arthur's expression. Horrified, sorrowful...the footage captured it all before a stone came flying from the mass gathered, striking the boy square in the forehead. Alfred gasped, leaning towards his computer.

The footage ended there.

But not before the American had caught a clear notice of someone still standing at the top of the stairs. Impassive and uncaring of the struggle that Arthur was going through: Francis Bonnefoy.

Alfred shut off his laptop, unable to take any more. He was more confused than he was in the beginning. His emotions towards the Briton more obscure than they once were.

Arthur and Francis were close. Maybe not the best of friends, but chummy enough that they would definitely care if one of them was in pain. So why did it seem that Francis cold to Arthur's pain?

What had happened all those years ago? Was it the reason Arthur was who he was today? The reason he blocked off everything from the world: created a wall that was impossible to breach?

What was Alfred supposed to do now?

The American tucked himself in, tightening the blankets around him. Questions were still swirling around his brain; but he could not answer any of the.

In a little over twelve hours he'd have to go to school; and the chances of him seeing Arthur were high.

But, how should he act?

Alfred closed his eyes, using all his consciousness to will away the questions. Yet the end result was still the same.

He was at a loss.

* * *

_A/N: It's here! Finally after a year the next chapter is uploaded! __Wow, looking back this fic used to be so happy. Wonder what happened? I'd like to apologize to everyone for the long absence I took with updating. Life's been busy...I left a full explanation on the last chapter of one of my other fics 'War on Spades', if anyone wanted to take a look. I actually didn't predict to update this until the end of the month but reviews from there inspired my determination to post this chapter. Hopefully I didn't let anyone down with this chapter (gosh, I say this a lot). And I'm really sorry and thankful for everyone who has stuck with me 'til now. I'll do my best for the next chapter!_


	15. Let's have a replay!

Arthur trudged into first class; purposely ignorant of all the wary glances that were sent his direction. It was a tiring matter to pretend that he even cared the slightest bit for what people thought of him. He was already used to how people looked at him. Scared; disgusted; repulsed. Every single day they were all the same – no one ever changed. Just a monochrome blur of emotions and speech; nothing of great importance.

"Look at that bruise..."

"Someone finally showed him what was coming..."

The Briton took his seat, resting his head in his elbows as he kept his eyes subtlety watching the class entrance. Today was the day he would test the result of his actions. Today, he would see if Alfred F. Jones – the golden boy of Hetalia high would finally leave him alone. If the American would finally become one of the masses that walked the halls of a second rate high school. A simple student.

Just another boring person.

The bell signalling the beginning of class sounded at the exact moment the clock stroke half past eight. Students begin to rush into classrooms; the bustle of the hallway din rising in a great crescendo before cutting short. Arthur began to label each person that stepped through the far from grand doors of the room.

_Nerd._

_ Attention whore._

_ Teacher._

_ Jock._

_ Invisible._

_ "_Open your books everyone..."

The green eyed teen blinked, turning his head towards the teacher. No idiotic loudmouth had entered. Therefore, no Alfred F. Jones.

"Today, we'll be going through one of the short stories in the text..."

The green eyed male reached into his bag, slipping out the books that were needed. Every now and then he would glance at the door, waiting – but not hoping - that a foolishly loud American would burst in.

But, maybe he wasn't coming. Maybe Alfred had decided to move schools after what happened. Maybe, just maybe, the blue eyed male finally hated the Briton enough to keep away.

Arthur pretended he didn't feel the pinch in his chest at the last thought. It meant nothing to him if the American disappeared. The anomaly in his life would finally be gone. And Alfred F. Jones would be no more. Arthur would remain the winner of their game.

"Can anyone explain to me the meaning of this story?"

The teenager glanced down at the words in front of him, not really reading what was on the page. After all, it was a just a simple timeworn story about love and romance. A collection of words and paragraphs that Arthur didn't even bother to read the title of.

Characters met; they fell in love.

Adversity stroke. They conquered it out of the power of love.

Happily ever after. The end.

Game over.

The green eyed male touched his bruised cheek gingerly as his mind wandered further away from reality. It hurt. It really did. But Arthur didn't mind. He'd gone through worst – plus the injuries still littering the rest of his body cancelled out the pain on his face. Numbed it out until it was as if it was never even there.

Arthur glanced to his side, catching a group of girls whisper quietly. Their faces contorted with the ugly expression of hate and disgust as they looked his way.

"I wonder why he can't just drop down and die?"

'_Because where's the fun in giving you the bloody satisfaction?' _Arthur thought to himself. He caught their eye, smiling towards them with detached feelings. It almost made him laugh when they quickly directed their faces to their desks; pretending that they were actually reading. The Briton wondered if physical pain numbed the heart as well; he knew it worked vice versa but he never paid much attention. He didn't really care.

Just as the lesson reached its halfway point, Arthur turned his head to the door one more time. There was no Alfred F. Jones.

And, if his predictions were right, there wouldn't be ever again.

* * *

Alfred was at a crossroad.

Eight in the morning; half an hour before the first ring of the class bell and here he stood: behind his front door.

Undecided.

If he called Eduard -his chauffeur- he'd probably arrive at school – one minute before class even began. Honestly, that would be the perfect situation. Except Arthur was in that class. And there was no way in hell was Alfred ready to face him.

A hero always faced adversity straight on; a law out of the long list of morals that dictated Alfred's heroic career. But, right at that moment – 8:01 AM – it was one that was killing the teen to follow.

Despite heading to bed before the sun had even begun to set, the blue eyed American had barely a wink of sleep to his day. Too many questions had rushed into his mind the moment his eyelids had closed; too many images of Arthur Kirkland.

Alfred yawned, turning the knob to the door as he stepped out into his front patio. That left his second choice: busing it to school.

If he did that, he'd probably be late for class. And, if he arrived at school past the half way mark after class started, then skipping it was no doubt the most convenient option. The American wouldn't meet Arthur that way. Not until their next class together – which wasn't 'till after lunch. But still: it wasn't a part of a hero's good conscience to skip class. It was a responsibility that he had and the fact that he was actually present in the class evened out the idea that he tended not to pay attention to them.

So, calling Eduard was the way to go.

Alfred snatched his phone out of his pocket, dialling and giving his driver his location. The man would probably arrive in about five, maybe ten minutes. And, since it only took another ten plus a couple more minutes to walk to class, the situation was ideal. But, still; what was he supposed to say to Arthur?

Was he supposed to ask: how are you today?

Or maybe: are you alright?

Either way, they'd both sound fake. After all, Alfred was one of the people who hurt him -that was a fact he could not deny. The American had raised his hand against the smaller male; struck him; hit him; bruised him; then left him behind in the cold.

That was not an act of a hero. It was not something Alfred had ever thought he could do – but he did. And the regret was unbearable.

Maybe he should just avoid the Briton from here on out. It would probably save a lot of trouble – for both of them. Arthur had made it perfectly clear that he hated Alfred. That he wanted the male to leave him alone.

But the kiss in the beginning. What _was _that?

Arthur had described it to be a favour – a bribe to satisfy the American's curiousity. That had hurt Alfred. His ego; his values; his pride. It made him angry.

Yesterday, Alfred F. Jones' actions were not that of a hero. And today, he was still not acting like one.

Alfred trudged to the edge of the sidewalk, crouching down as he waited for a certain car to pull up. Questions were swirling in his mind – each one with a contradiction of answers. All he had was twenty minutes. Twenty minutes until class started. And it was not enough time; not when he couldn't even keep his thoughts together.

A shadow engulfed the American; interrupting his thoughts as a familiar voice called out.

"Mr. Jones! It's dangerous to sit down by the road like that!"

Alfred glanced up to meet the eyes of the familiar face of his driver, Eduard von Bock. The Estonian had been his assigned chauffeur since he had first been accepted as a model for Bonneland. Alfred was glad for it as the man had been nothing but kind since their meeting about three years ago.

"Hey, how many time have I got to tell you to call me Alfred?" the American chuckled in good humour, making an effort to stand up and step out of the shadow that the car created. He reached out to swing the door open, swiftly ducking in to enter the back seat. Eduard glanced at his newly arrived passenger.

"Where to, boss?" he asked.

Alfred responded with a quick mutter – he couldn't waste time for anymore conversation: he needed to think. With that thought, the teen rested his cheek comfortable on the cool leather, duly gazing out the window as the vehicle began to move. For a moment, the boy closed his eyes; his thoughts brought out as his sight disappeared.

Arthur – Arthur Kirkland.

Why, why, why? Why was his existence so difficult to understand? Why was he so different from everyone else? What made him tick?

Blue eyes opened again, peering through the glass at the people he deemed 'everyone else'. The majority of them were boring; doing what people tended to do best on the sidewalk: walk. Simple silhouettes of unknown people living unknown lives. People who had nothing to do with Alfred F. Jones – unless they were fans – fans were always important in some respect.

Alfred continued to gaze outside the safety of his vehicle, a smile tugging at his lips whenever someone glanced his way. Their expression would always twist into avid admiration or shock at the sight of him. He was just that awesome.

Plus, the fact that he was riding a sleek black bentley convertible _with his own chauffeur _always had its bright sides. Perfection within perfection.

The model closed his eyes once more; his thoughts returning to Arthur.

What did Alfred ever do to warrant so much anger and hate from the other male?

He thought back to when they first met. Alfred was walking into the school for the first time. Arthur was resting his head on the window sill.

Alfred waved. Arthur ignored him.

He waved harder. Arthur pointed up.

Stupid Gilbert. Stupid water balloons.

The blue eyed male's eyebrows furrowed from the memory. At the time, Alfred had caught an amused smirk coming from the other male. Arthur couldn't have hated him then.

First introduction: Arthur was polite. He wanted to shake hands.

Alfred was surprised; someone didn't know who he was.

No.

That wasn't right. Arthur _knew. _He had pretended out of the sake of proper introductions. Would someone who had hated him upon first speaking to him put such an effort for a small pretence like that? And Arthur was the son of that CEO that Alfred kinda worked for but never met. Didn't that mean Arthur had power over him? If he did, Arthur would probably have the ability to boss him around on first meeting and get away with it.

A frustrated sigh escaped from Alfred's lips. The American was getting nowhere. Both mentally and literally.

"Are we there yet?" Alfred asked. His driver was scowling at the traffic lights as he shook his head.

"Sorry, Mr. Jones. Not yet," he said.

The younger of the two spared a glance to his phone, poking it out of his pocket to watch the time flash. Five minutes 'til class started; all the trouble deciding and he was probably going to be late anyways. Still, on the bright side, he had more time to think. Plus he could test out a theory he was thinking of.

"Hey, Eduard," the model started. "Do you know someone named Arthur Kirkland?"

He leaned forward to catch the driver's eye in the rear view mirror. Eduard had been working with Bonneland longer than he had. So, maybe, he knew.

"Yes, I know him."

Alfred grinned at the goal, leaning forward in attention. "Can you tell me about him?" He gave a moment's thought. "Please?"

The tone of the America's voice spoke of no ill intention. To someone who had no inkling of who he was would have thought him an angel; or maybe a virgin. More likely a curious five year old. But, Alfred wanted more than simply knowledge about the Briton. He just didn't know what of yet.

"No need for all the sugary sweet, Mr. Jones!" Eduard laughed. "What would you like to know?"

Alfred frowned, contemplating how he wanted to answer that question. What did he want to know? Arthur's birthday...his life growing up...his friends..._girlfriend...why he was so broken..._

Alfred didn't know which he should ask first. So he opted for all of it.

"Tell me everything you know."

* * *

When Alfred hadn't shown up for first period, Arthur was only half certain that it was because the warnings had finally made it through his head. When he had checked the attendance for the American's following classes – all of which that Arthur was not a student of – the Briton had found out that the American had been to every one of them. That was what made him certain.

The sun had finally set on Arthur Kirkland. Alfred F. Jones was no more.

_So why was __in bleeding hell was __he sitting across from him, watching __the Briton__ eat?_

Arthur spooned a small serving of curry into his mouth, keeping his eyes off the blue eyed American that was currently his table partner. Already, he could hear the whispers that spoke of the enlightening presence of Alfred F. Jones. The questions that asked why, oh, why was he with with _him. _The dictator; the demon; _the murderer._

_ "_How's the curry?"

Alfred was the first to break the silence; he garnered a whimsical glance from the smaller male but no answer.

"Is it good?"

Still no response.

"Can I have some?"

The American continued to stare; awaiting an answer. Silence. One second, two seconds. Three.

Arthur almost hoped that Alfred would then leave. It would have been easier if he did. Then, all Arthur would have to do was contemplate the reason for the one sided verbal exchange. He would have accounted it to Alfred's stubborn nature. That the blue eyed teen had given Arthur a chance that the elder chose not to take. And then, without another word, accepted his loss in the game.

Arthur would have won, yet again.

But, Alfred didn't do any of that; because he hadn't given up. So, he reached up to steal the student president's spoon along with a bite of his lunch. And with it, his attention.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur finally spoke, his tone filled with muted enquiry. As if he asked simply for the sake of asking. And, that even if Alfred hadn't answered, he would already have had his own conclusion drawn for himself.

"I'm stealing your food," Alfred responded, his eyes only leaving Arthur's face once so that he could actually get a good look at what he was eating. He ignored all the looks that he himself garnered; wondering why he had never noticed the death glares that went Arthur's way before. It was a wonder what one could notice when actually looking for it.

_ What do other people think of Arthur?_

That was one of the questions he was searching for. And he found it almost everywhere he walked. Whispers; gossip; random conversations.

It was surprising how free speech was really free in more ways than one. And it came with a bonus of pros and cons.

The American had spent virtually the entire first period listening to what his driver had to say about the man named Arthur Kirkland. No definite questions had been answered but...

_"Wouldn't it be unfair to Arthur if you learned everything from me?"_

Eduard had said that to him; and for once, Alfred agreed with someone other than himself. Even if he had heard the same thing from multiple people already. At the back of the teen's mind, he thought that maybe Kiku was one of those people...or was it Gilbert? His memory sucked.

"May I ask, _why, _you are eating my lunch?" the Briton asked, the irateness that solely belonged to Arthur beginning to appear.

_Why are you even talking to me?_

_ Why aren't you staying away?_

_ Why are you acting as if yesterday never happened?_

The questions of why all went unasked; but, it didn't mean that they didn't exist.

Alfred wondered if he should just open his mouth and say his usual answer. The response that he would have given if yesterday did not past as it did. Simply, he could pretend it didn't and say: _Cause I'm hungry. And it looks tasty._

* * *

_ "Arthur is__n't a bad __person. I met him a few months before he started high school. __You probably won't believe me if you saw him now Mr. Jones, but he was a bit of a delinquent then."_

* * *

"I'm sorry," was Alfred's answer.

Arthur's mouth gaped open at the apology. It was a rare, practically non-existent occurrence in the life of Alfred F. Jones. And it was baffling. Arthur could do nothing but stare, forgetting to begin the effort of retrieving his spoon back.

"What?"

Just by the two of them being in close proximity in the same room was enough to cause a commotion in the cafeteria. Every single movement that the two of them made was being catalogued by all the teenagers in the room. And them, both staring at each other the way they were was no doubt causing tension in the room.

The way Alfred's eyes looked when he stared at the bruise on Arthur's face. How his mouth flapped open for a fraction of a second when his sight landed on it; as if to make another apology or an arrogant remark.

* * *

_"__From what I could gather, Mr. Jones, he was living through hell back then. Fifteen, didn't even have whiskers growing from his chin and he already looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Not in the good way though; it wasn't a carefree kind of look that he had. It was more like he didn't give a damn about pretty much anything anymore."_

* * *

"There are vegetables in that, you know. Onions and carrots," Alfred commented, stretching his arms across the table before resting his head on it. "I thought you didn't like them."

Arthur responded slowly, perturbed at the sudden change in topic. "It's fine because the carrots are in squared chunks and the onions are finely chopped... as long as they're not french cut, I can eat them."

"Why?"

The Briton twitched in annoyance but he answered anyways. "No person can create something the first time perfectly, Francis was no exception. I happened to be a guinea pig when he had made his first actual recipes."

Alfred left it at that; observing the scrunch of Arthur's eyebrows.

* * *

_"__In all honesty, Arthur never actually told me anything about his personal life; we weren't all that close. I found everything out through other people and all the commotion that was going on at that time; it's surprised you've never heard about it, __Mr. Jones__ The first things I heard about him wasn't anything positive. They called him names that I thought the media wasn't even allowed to say! But after a while, I made the decision not to judge him based on other opinions."_

Alfred really did give Eduard's words a thought. For once, he listened to someone other that the superheroes on his television. And his decision was that he would be the one to decide on who Arthur Kirkland was – based on what he believed to be true. Not baseless rumours floating around. His conclusion was:

Arthur Kirkland was still an asshole.

_ "__He gave me this job, you know! When he found out I had lost mine because of layoffs and that I had a brother to support. That's how I met him. We were both in bad spots and, hopefully this won't make you think less of him or I but, I tried to mug him. Haha, the first thing he did when I made my attempt was slam my head to the closest hard surface. I started blabbering how sorry I was...and I don't know if it was pity or guilt but he introduced me to Toris and asked the man to recommend me a job !__"_

But he wasn't only an asshole.

"I looked you up on the internet...found a whole bunch of stuff..."

Alfred twiddled his thumbs while he spoke. "About Jeanne...your parents..."

Arthur didn't answer Alfred in a moment. He didn't answer even in two nor three. In fact, the Briton didn't answer at all. Just simply upped and walked away; leaving the American confused and surrounded by a cafeteria full of people.

That was when everything went to hell.

* * *

The moment Arthur decided to leave, it was as if a wall between the two males and the rest of the world had crumbled. Or maybe as if Arthur's very presence had forced all other's around them into submission. Because, once he was gone, everyone began to swarm the space where Arthur once was. All of them blocking Alfred's way to the Briton.

The American ran after the smaller male, pushing through a growing crowd that seemed to exist solely to be in his way. He had expected Arthur to get mad. Shout at him; question him.

Not walk away. Never walk away. At least nor without a word. But, that's what Arthur did. And it was confusing as hell. Why didn't he ever go with people's expectations of him?

"Arthur!" Alfred called out, resisting to urge to shove people away from him. He caught onto Arthur by only a pinch of fabric from the ugly wool sweater vest he always seemed to wear. The Briton, in response, brushed his hand away; not speaking but throwing him a look of annoyance mixed something else. Alfred didn't know what. He never knew anything when it came to Arthur.

"Hey!" the American continued to shout, frowning at the attempts the people around him were taking to talk to him.

"Oh my gosh, _Alfred!_"

"EEEE! He touched me!"

Alfred loved attention. He lived on it; practically married to the feeling. But, just like any marriage, there was times when he just needed space to do his own thing. And the current situation was an example of that. Right now, Alfred was being crushed by the attention he so loved and it frustrated him.

"Could you guys move the hell out of my way?!" the model shouted, making his path through the crowd; his actions just short of ramming through the wall of people. He was losing sight of Arthur in the masses; and though he knew he would probably meet up with the man later, the chance would be lost. There was something Alfred needed to say; and he need to say it now.

_ "Arthur is a kinder person than he lets on to be, Mr. Jones. Maybe that's the reason he caught your eye? It's a rare thing for someone to steal your undivided attention nowadays. He must be special to you."_

That was Alfred's answer right in his face.

The reason that Arthur caused him so much trouble than anyone ever did.

On day one, Arthur Kirkland had caught the attention of Alfred F. Jones.

From then on, he amused him. Frustrated him, saddened him, angered him like no other.

But never once did the Briton truly disappoint him

Truth be told, what Alfred had discovered about Arthur from Eduard in their conversation hadn't been much. But, the expression of gratitude that was permanent on his driver's face when speaking of the British teen was etched in Alfred's mind. It had kept him from brushing the speech off without another thought. And it got his mind going.

"Arthur!" Alfred practically screamed above the noise of the crowd; the booming tenor of his voice causing everyone to freeze. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Alfred to push through with less resistance before the crowd began to animate itself once more. The blue eyed model caught sight of his schoolmate, breaking into a quick jog to catch up. He wrapped his hand around the smaller male's wrist, preventing him from having another easy escape. The two of them found themselves in the middle of the hallway; though, like before, Arthur's presence kept everyone away.

"...why'd...you leave?" the younger of the two panted, his breath gone from the shout and jog. "I..want to tell...you something."

This time, despite Arthur's lack of responses from previous moments, he answered. But it was with words coated with venom.

"So what? Why do you constantly act as though I care about what you want?" Arthur uttered with a dark undertone. It was as if he was holding back much more than just questions. He probably was. But Alfred never paid it much mind before.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

_Stop it._

Alfred apologized again.

_Stop it. Why was he apologizing?_

"I'm sorry." _I didn't know._

Arthur narrowed his eyes, examining the American in front of him. Out of breath; a small pink tinge to his cheeks. He looked nothing less of sincere. But Alfred F. Jones was a model. A popular one; a good one – it was no doubt he was a master over his expressions. _He was a person who could easily lie and get away from it._ But, eyes never lied. And the way he was looking at the Briton...

Arthur was already used to how people looked at him. Scared; disgusted; repulsed. Every single day was the same – no one changed.

Especially the pity.

The pity that was ever present behind even the most violent of emotions.

It was the sympathy that Arthur couldn't stand the most.

And there it was. Behind the eyes of Alfred F. Jones.

Arthur Kirkland had once believed that by winning the game, Alfred F. Jones would become one of the masses. But, if the American was still here; still talking to him, then the game wasn't completely won.

Yet Alfred F. Jones was already just like everyone else. The way his eyes looked at him.

And he hated it; despised it with every fibre of his being. Those blue eyes; that despicable emotion.

_"Stay the fuck away from me," _Arthur hissed through tight lips, fists clenched at his side. He relished at the way the American flinched, his eyes blinking; hiding the pity. Arthur would not allow him to apologize again. Not with that tone; the one that looked at him as if he were a child. As if he was damaged.

"Arthur, I," the American began.

"No! Don't you bloody dare, Alfred F. Jones!" the other male shouted, feeling the pain of his nails digging into his palms. "Don't you sodding dare!"

Arthur glared at the taller teen, keeping his eyes levelled with anger. "Did you _really _think apologizing was going to make everything alright?"

He jerked his wrist back, shoving Alfred away. "That it's going to make this sodding bruise disappear? That it will make me fall in bloody love with you like everyone else?"

"No, I," Alfred attempted to start again. Arthur wouldn't let him.

"Well, you're wrong," the green eyed male stated, his breath coming out in short bursts. "You're bloody wrong."

"I gave you a chance." Arthur was glowering at the American now, his teeth clenched. "When you walked away back then, you should have left it at that and stayed away. But you always have to play the hero, don't you?"

The Briton resisted the urge to grab the American by the collar simply to make his point. "I gave you another chance when I walked away, you should've taken it, Alfred F. Jones."

Alfred could easily see that Arthur was angry. But, on the bright side, the man had yet to cuss at him violently other than the usual 'bloody' or 'sodding'. So, maybe he wasn't angry enough to listen.

"That's not what I'm trying to say," Alfred stated, taking in a breath to calm himself. Right now, no matter how much he wanted to yell back that Arthur wasn't getting it; that _he _was the one who was wrong, he wouldn't. Because, Alfred was a hero. And heroes didn't do that. Plus, the American still had things to say. And he said it: "I'm sorry, Arthur."

Those words were wrong to Arthur's ears.

"Don't you dare pity me, Alfred!" This time, Arthur did grab the other male by the collar, dragging the man toward him until he was glaring down at his face.

"I don't need your sympathy!"

But, Alfred would not be adhered.

"You're not getting what I'm trying to say, Arthur!" The American grabbed the smaller by the shoulders, pushing him back and releasing himself. "I'm sorry for everything up to now!"

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone. For punching you; insulting you; laughing at you!" Alfred listed his misdemeanours, actually counting each one on his fingers.

"I want to start over again!"

"What?" Arthur scoffed at him. _Who did the American think he was? Did he really think he could be appeased so easily?_ "Just like that? You think everything could start over just like that? Are you insane? You can't just turn back life again! _There's no reset button!_"

"But, this is a game, right?" Alfred grinned, weakly. "I was supposed to make you fall in love with me, right?"

The American swallowed as he watched Arthur's face twitch at the mentioning of their game. Honestly, Alfred had completely forgotten it until the exact moment the other had mentioned that life had 'no reset button'. But now, he remembered. And if it meant getting Arthur to agree with what he had in mind, then he'd abuse the idea.

"Then I forfeit this game," Alfred declared, watching the student council president's face falter in shock. "I lose."

"What?" Arthur opened his mouth in disbelief, tilting his ear in the direction of the American. His hearing had to be faulty; there was no way on Earth that Alfred would ever say that.

"Let's have a replay. From the beginning." Alfred extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Arthur Kirkland. My name's Alfred F. Jones."

The first time Arthur had first turned his back on him was when they first introduced themselves. It was the first time he had been angered; turned away; scoffed at the model's existence. So, that was where they'd start.

"Is this a Joke?" Arthur laughed. "Something so stupidly clichéd like that!"

"I like hamburgers! Especially ones with bacon and cheese! My favourite soda is Cola! I think aliens are real!" Alfred continued to announce, and he would have kept at it if Arthur hadn't covered his mouth.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!"

Arthur's face was in a frown, his mind trying to understand what was going on in the American's head. Alfred explained it simply.

"I found out what happened to you four years ago online."

Arthur went quiet at the statement, his hands going lax. His expression was hard. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Alfred answered in earnest. "I found out about your past from the fucking _internet! _Things you like; the stuff you like to do? I got them from Kiku, Gilbert and Francis! I hardly know anything about you from _you!"_

He extended his hand out again.

"It's nice to meet you, Arthur Kirkland. My name is Alfred F. Jones," the American repeated.

The Briton continued to stare at the American with disbelief. "You're bloody insane. That what you are."

Alfred took advantage of Arthur's shock, taking his right limb into a handshake. "It's really nice to meet you."

The movement caused the smaller blond to snap out of his stupor. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

That was the ultimate question. The million dollar enquiry.

Why was Alfred F. Jones doing this?

What were his intentions?

"You're important to me, Arthur," he answered. "I don't know how yet but..."

The American paused, mustering up the next words. "Let's be friends this time, 'kay?"

Arthur swallowed. "And if I say no?"

"Then I'll keep on trying." Alfred repeated it once more. "I'll keep trying."

For a moment, Alfred was afraid that Arthur would walk away again. That he would turn his back. But, instead, the smaller male simply stared at their right hands, both of which were still entwined. Then, with an uncertain gaze, he responded.

Not with words; nor with any sound. But with a tiny shake of their hands – a silent movement that one wouldn't even be able unless they looked for it.

But it was enough for Alfred. He felt it; he _saw _it.

And the happiness that exploded from him was shocking.

"Yes!" Alfred jumped, doing a little dance of joy in the middle of the crowded hallway. He grabbed Arthur's wrist again, pulling him along through the corridor. "Let's start by getting ice on that bruise, okay?"

Arthur opened his mouth to make a remark; closing it almost immediately when he realized he was at a loss for words. The two almost made it to the nurse's office when the Briton remembered something.

"...I was supposed to meet the principal after lunch."

The green eyed male, stumbled out of the other's hold; his mind was still a daze. It took a lot of his consciousness to take in the wistful expression on Alfred's face. But, the American smiled.

"Okay! But, I'll definitely see you in class, right! You'll definitely be there?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded slowly, staggering along the floor towards where he was supposed to be.

* * *

Arthur sure he was prepared for anything. Insults; pain; despair. But, friendship?

What was going on with his life? Better yet, what was going on with Alfred F. Jones?

The student council president continued walking, his body instinctively making his way to the office of the principal. Up the stairs to where all the offices were situated...last door to the right...

Arthur knocked on the door. "Mr. Vargas?"

There was an immediate answer. "Arthur~ Come in! Come in!"

The Briton swung the door open, coming across an older version of the Vargas twins. He was their grandfather though, so it was to be expected. But, really, the smile on the man's face was more reminiscent to a Frenchman. And, by his side was the Vice, Mr. Beilschimidt. One could have sworn that Ludwig was a clone with the exception of the long hair that the man wore.

"How many _times _do I have to tell you, Arthur, to call me _Mr. Roma?" _

The principal twirled his chair behind a single standard, wooden office desk; balancing a pencil on his top lip as he did so.

"It's music to my ears when my students call me so! The sound of appreciation for my home!" Mr. Vargas through his hand up in the air. "Rome! Ah~ Say it with me Arthur! Rome! Ah~"

Arthur turned his eyes to the side. "Er. Roma."

"_Grazie! Grazie!" _the man exclaimed. "Now, greet our dear Mr. Beilschimdt! Repeat! Germany! Ah~"

"Mr. Roma, may I ask why I was called?" Arthur asked, heading straight to the point.

"Germany. Ah~" the principal insisted.

The student president caved. "...Germania..."

"_Si!" _the Italian praised. The vice principal on the other hand, simply grunted.

"Now, Arthur, the reason I have called you in are because a numerous amount of students – whose names I will not disclose – have been unsatisfied with your position as president." The man folded his hands on the desk, the smile still ever present. But, there was a reason he was principal. He ruled strictly when need be.

"I see. And the decision?"

The elder answered. "Starting in two weeks, there's going to be a re-election for student council president." He twirled around in his chair again.

"And?" Arthur enquired, feeling as if there was something left out. There was. The vice-president was the one who responded.

"The students have already nominated someone else to participate in the election."

The green eyed male closed his eyes, already having an inkling on who it would be. He still asked. "Who is it?"

"Alfred F. Jones. You know him, don't you?"

With a swallow, Arthur nodded his head. He took a deep breath.

"Yes, I know him..."

At the answer, the teenager was dismissed with a simple statement. "You should get that bruise looked at by the nurse."

Arthur nodded again, slipping out of the room with an uneasy silence. He clenched his teeth. The day was getting worst by the second.

Did Alfred know that he had been nominated? Was this why he had wanted to be friends with Arthur? To start over? So he could soften him up and have a better chance of winning?

The Briton felt like a fool. If that was true, then Arthur Kirkland was pathetic. Because, even if it was for a single second he had believed. He had...

No.

_No no no no no no._

Arthur rubbed at his temples, trying to keep a headache away. It was too late though; it was already there.

_Friends? Really?_

There was just no bloody way.

* * *

_A/N:_

_*sniff* You...guys...! Thank you so much! I honestly hadn't expected anyone to still be reading this after I was gone so long! I. LOVE. YOU. ALL. All of your feedback has been what's motivating me all this time! Thank you! I know I suck at answering messages and stuff and I'm crap with fast updates but you guys! THANK YOU! Haha, I have a final tommorow and two more next week so I'll be bit busy for a while but after that I am free! For two whole weeks! Since I don't have a life beyond seeing the odd movie with friends during that time (the Hobbit and Les Miserables, yay!) I'll definitely be working purely on fiction! Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next update in sooner!_


	16. A simple case of puppy love

_A case of puppy love_

_A/N: Yo. An update. Sorry, for the long wait._

USUK

Arthur ripped a bite of his sandwich, glaring at the posters meticulously pasted on plaster walls. The teen had spent half his entire lunch break searching for freedom - an area exempt from even an inkling of any blue eyed annoyances. But even so, hidden beneath the underside of the stairwell, peace eluded him.

_ Vote for Alfred F. Jones._

_ Bring a hero into office!_

_ Down with the dictator._

A collage of images – all of that one irritating man – were glued in front of him. Alfred as superman. Alfred as Uncle Sam. Alfred as himself.

Alfred, Alfred, Alfred.

Arthur clenched his sandwich in his fist, compacting his meal into one lumpy cube. Ever since the farce of the election began, the model's fans went mad; they pressed buttons, created plush toys, ironed pictures onto t-shirts.

All in dedication to Alfred F. Jones. _Bloody hell._ The man was a virus.

"...this is turning into a sodding cult," Arthur muttered, sinking to the ground. He loosened his grip on his sandwich, staring at it in distaste. It looked more like a croquette now that the bread, ham, and cheese were melded together. Still edible.

He took another bite, keeping his eyes to the ground. Even if the place was engulfed with the smiling face of the model, quiet was quiet. And Arthur wasn't about to give that up.

With a sigh, the green eyed teenager leaned his head against the wall. His shoulders were heavy; his neck sore, and the pain in his head continually throbbed against his temple without relief.

Two weeks ago, when the election had first began, Arthur was almost confident he could win. He had thought that even with Alfred's greater popularity, the student body would have some sense on who was best to lead.

An American who was barely passing English despite it being his first and only language.

Or Arthur, whom been with the student council for over a year – who understood the school's workings inside and out.

He had cut club budgets so that the school as a whole could enjoy better lunches. The green eyed male had worked himself to the point of sleep deprivation planning fundraisers to finance the festivals that the school enjoyed. He allowed clubs to go into every competition they wished so they could promote the school name and gain sponsors that would aid the institution.

But, no one except for a handful actually realized that. No one cared enough to pay attention.

"Spoiled brats." Arthur stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth before grabbing the bottle of black tea he kept in his bag.

The first time Arthur had joined council had been as vice president to Francis in eleventh grade. He hadn't wanted to. It wasn't even with his own power that he received the position. Francis had done something to the school – used his frog magic or something.

Because for him, at that time – the child who society labelled murderer, the boy that was isolated in his own world – such a feat would have been unreachable. But, it had been his.

And when Francis' workload had increased, and the man hadn't been able attended to his duties – it had been Arthur who had done everything. Then, when the end of that year came, and the next was approaching, Arthur had been chosen. He had won.

With his own power. With his own hard work.

He had won.

And now Alfred wanted to take that away. He, who only came to Hetalia Academy because of the forceful urgings of his parents. He, who believed that he could gain everything just with a flash of a smile.

That bastard.

Arthur sipped his tea, staring impassively at the mouth of his bottle. It was unfair.

The green eyed male dug out an agenda from his bag. He flipped through it until it reached the present date. Tomorrow was the start of Christmas Holidays. The results for the election would be after it – so another two weeks.

Arthur read through his to-do list. "I suppose I should finish everything before the end of holidays."

The Briton staggered up, ducking out of the underside of the stairwell. His feet led him to the student council office where he sat himself down behind his desk. It always felt empowering to think that behind that single piece of furniture, he held power. The power to control the school. No matter how arrogant and corrupt the statement was, Arthur didn't care. Because he earned that power, worked for it. And, in two weeks, it would fall from his grasp.

Because there was no way Alfred would lose.

The blond haired student sighed. He might as well ensure everything was in order before the new president walked in.

USUK

"GAAAH! Mattie, what the HELL am I supposed to do?!"

Alfred paced like a mad man around the classroom that had been deemed 'the opposition party's office.' He had kidnapped his brother, placed him in a seat and was now ranting at his nervous sibling.

"Seriously! I wanted to be FRIENDS! So, why the fuck is everyone saying he's my enemy?!" the American screamed into the space that had once been devoid of all sound except his voice. Matthew responded quietly.

"Eh..." He didn't know what to say.

"I don't even WANT to be the president! I like my free time, thank you!" Alfred complained.

"Eh..." Matthew still couldn't think of anything worth saying.

"And now Arthur hates me! He's avoiding me! And I don't even know how everything just went BOOM! It was going so well too!" Alfred threw his arms up. "He agreed that we could be friends! But then...! How?!"

"Some student petitioned for a re-election...they nominated you and the principal agreed..." the violet eyed male finally uttered out his two cents, fidgeting in his seat. It was a strange event that Alfred was even putting effort to talk to him. And an even stranger sight in seeing his sibling become mentally undone by the teen called Arthur Kirkland. Alfred had always been the happy one.

"I know it was because I'm awesome but, why did they have to nominate me?!" Alfred finally took a seat on the floor by the exit. "What if I win? I usually only see Arthur in the council room. Where the hell am I gonna find him if he ain't there anymore?"

Matthew stared dumbfounded at his twin. The man actually looked honestly stricken from the idea of not seeing Arthur. This was interesting.

"Eh. Why don't you take your posters down. It might help Arthur if you remove all that propaganda.."

Alfred shook his head. "I tried. Those bitches just accused Arthur of trying to make me lose. Then they put more up."

"Eh..." Matthew couldn't think of anything else to add.

"Arthur won't even give me his number. Or even his address! So I can't call him or nothing!" Alfred grumbled. He gave his brother the perfect chance to butt in.

"Hey, Al...how many people have you dated, eh?" Matthew asked. In response, the blue eyed male glanced up, somewhat surprised.

"Girl or boy?"

The younger sibling seemed taken aback by the question but he continued onward. There was something important he needed to test. "Both."

Alfred lifted his fingers to his face, mentally counting before scrunching his nose. "I dunno. Can't remember."

"And what's Arthur's favourite food?" the teen enquired. This time, Alfred answered with no questions nor hesitation.

"He likes pastries the best – especially blueberry scones. He doesn't like eating them with blueberry jelly though; says that it's redundant so he uses strawberry jelly and clotted cream. Doesn't like it when I call them tea biscuits or jelly either. Always gotta be scones n' jam." Alfred thought again. "Plus he like curry. Not the spicy ones though. He likes it if the onions are chopped real small and you gotta cut up the vegetable into chunks or he won't eat them. Well, as long they're not French cut it's fine, I guess.

Matthew nodded, his decision clear. Alfred was smitten. And now, he had the chance to take sides in their petty game. "There's something I want to give you."

USUK

The one thing Arthur hated about American cities – well, cities in general – were that they were never quiet. Even the dead of winter was not truly dead when fat old men wandered the streets in red jumpsuits. Especially with equally creepy unknowns hidden under reindeer costumes by their sides.

He didn't really understand the tradition. Of course, they celebrated Christmas back when he lived in England...just not to the extent that Americans did. There just wasn't the constant fall of sparkling confetti mixed in with the snow. Christmas to him was a time to relax, leave school and finally sleep the full eight hours that he never had. So, when Christmas break came, seeing the American who shall not be named, arrive at his door was an utterly unwelcome addition to his day.

"Yo, Artie!"

Alfred waved his hand at the Briton's face. He was wearing the usual bomber jacket and jeans combination. But, gracing his visage were apair of black tint glasses covering the entire top half of his face. All in all, the man's appearance contrasted with the faded-grey carpet in which he stood with Louis Vuitton denim sneakers. Behind him, the yellowing white paint seemed to peel outward from him, as if flaking away from his greatness.

"How in bloody hell do you know where I live?" Arthur glowered at the man from the small sliver that he allowed his door to open. Without classes, the Briton had planned his two-week holiday perfectly. He'd sleep by day and work by night; nothing was needed in between the two. Just a simple way of living. Only him and his life. And then there was Alfred.

"Mattie told me. I texted you about it! Didn't you read it?" Alfred stated with a smile, already reaching forward to pry open Arthur's door. The green eyed tenant wouldn't allow it. "Go away, Alfred." Arthur made a motion to shut the man out, only to notice that the American had already snaked his foot into the door. Did the man have no respect for his five hundred bloody dollar sneakers?

"C'mon, Artie! I came all this way to see ya!" the blue eyed model moaned, using his hands to forcefully swing Arthur's door open against his will. He forced his entry, collapsing onto the floor to prevent any attempts Arthur would have to shove him back out. He swung a large gift bag onto the centre of the room; meanwhile, his legs manoeuvred skillfully, kicking the door shut.

"Infiltration: Success!" Alfred declared, rolling across the hardwood floor until he hit the nearest wall. All the while, Arthur glowered in distaste.

"What the fuck do you want, Alfred?" the smaller blond asked, stepping across the room only to seat himself. Other than the single question, all efforts he made was to ignore his home intruder. If he made anymore, then the man would probably start whining and throwing a fit like the loud idiot he was.. He didn't need his landlord knocking at his door. Alfred only giggled up at him.

How manly.

"The hero has graced you with a personal home visit!" the American proclaimed, jumping to his feet. With every word he spoke, a vein popped from the green eyed male's temple. It was surprising how many blood vessels a human had in their head. "If you're here to beg for sodding forgiveness, I've already told you." He sent a side glare at the younger teen. "You have better chances if you wipe that grin and get out of my bloody sight." He shook his head with a scoff. "Parasite."

Alfred ignored the hurtful words to jump beside Arthur on the man's sofa. It was rough and uncomfortable with age – a strange brown colour that the American didn't remember ever seeing in stores. It took a lot of effort not to mention it."Can't we forget about all the election crap for a while! It's Christmas break! Two full weeks of mother fucking awesomeness!"

The larger of the two males threw his hands up into the air to accent the awe inspiring idea of no school for fourteen full days. No fangirls to interrupt his conversations with Arthur. No student council being weird 'bout him and Artie. Just him and the other awesome guy. Not Gilbert though– the German couldn't measure up to his awesomeness.

Alfred sighed, focusing on the man beside him. He didn't care if Arthur was giving him the look as if to say '_What the hell is up with this creepy fucker?_

"Remember, I said I wanted to start over? As friends?"

Alfred's eyes twinkled as he asked the question. They never dimmed even with Arthur's rough responses. "Yes. Before I found out you were trying to steal away my position!"

Alfred continued to ignore the words. He was sure that if he responded to them, only arguments would ignite. And he hadn't come for that.

"I got my best bud a present!"

Arthur twitched. He couldn't deny the annoyance he felt at the man's voice and hid way of speaking. For the past week before the winter break, he had barely seen the other man. Only when they had to deliver presidential speeches did they ever hear each others voices – all of which Alfred had nervously spat out from a piece of paper that his groupies had written. It was a funny thing to remember.

_ "Uh. I promise, if I become president to...uh...what does that say...? Oh, uh, I promise to love everyone all equally and uh...cherish them?"_

But still annoying.

Arthur left his thoughts to find a gift bag blocking his view of basically everything in his apartment. It was a simple traditional bag – decorated with red spots on a green back drop. A bow of the same colours pasted at its top corner. A cute little thing that wasn't really so little. It's ribbons flowed down the bag, a contraption that was almost as big as the teen himself.

"What the hell is this?" Arthur asked, turning his head towards the other male. The idiotic, unfading smile shown strong on Alfred's visage.

"Open it!"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. Ever since day one of meeting the American, the teen had thrown his affections at him. Overbearing him with his presence. Outshining him with his smile. But, since his whole 'let's be friends' speech, the man's affections changed slightly. It didn't dim down but...

The green eyed male thought about it. How would he describe it? Honest? Was that it? Did Alfred seem more honest?

How was Arthur supposed to react to that?

"It's a blanket." The smaller blond raised his eyebrow noting the pure white blanket that was now in his hands. Alfred grinned, forcing Arthur to wonder why the man's face hadn't split yet.

"Nope! It's a duvet!" Alfred demonstrated by pulling the rest of the fabric covering and throwing it over the other man. He enclosed the smaller body, disregarding the swears and struggle that emanated from under the fabric. "It's a feather duvet! I got the softest one with the highest thread count!"

Alfred smacked the male under the blanket. "See? It's so thick that you can't feel me hit ya!" He fluffed the blanket off the other man, laughing. "You're always sleeping in school and stuff. And since you're an old man and all, I thought that you must have back pains or something!"

Arthur groaned through the American's laughter. "...how thoughtful." Only deaf ears would not be able to hear the sarcasm lacing the Briton's voice.

"Yeah, I know, right?!" Alfred nodded, erratically. Obviously, he must've been deaf. "It's cause I'm a hero! Gotta know these thing's, y'know!

Arthur rolled his eyes. The American's arrogance hadn't fallen at all.

"If you fall asleep on this, you're gonna definitely gonna wake up refreshed." Alfred continued to advertise the greatness of his gift. He took notice of the fact that Arthur was no longer paying attention to him to whisper a quiet statement. "It'd probably feel nice if we had sex on it too."

Arthur's eyes snapped to him. "What?"

"Nothing!" the American smiled, standing up and facing the smaller maler. "Hey, Artie! Let's hang out."

The green eyed male eyed the larger man suspisciously. At the back of his mind, he translated the words: Let's go on a date. And thus, answered accordingly. "No."

Alfred whined – accordingly. "Whhhhhyyy?! We're friends, right?! Friends hang out!"

Arthur followed Alfred up, rising to his feet. "I have work. Just because you have time to slack off, doesn't mean that I do."

"But, it's winter break! We're supposed to have fun!" Alfred insisted. The Briton sighed at the cliched statement. Vacations didn't always mean happiness.

Arthur stepped towards his door, opening the exit that Alfred had forced shut. He returned to the sofa to stuff the duvet back into its bag. And then the green eyed male chucked it into the hall.

"He-" Alfred opened his mouth to complain. But, before the words would finish, Arthur gripped his wrist, dragging him to the door. And then he tossed him out into the hallway.

"Don't come back here, Alfred."

Arthur looked down on his American counterpart, glaring down with impassive emotions. Right now, he didn't know what to think of the man beyond the irritating existence that he was. Alfred had changed his attitude towards him. Their exchange right then proved it.

A month beforehand, the American would have probably given him some stupid magazine of him – no thought to the Briton himself. Or maybe a plush doll that squeaked 'I'm a Hero' every time you squeezed it.

Alfred was still the arrogant teenager though. He was still the ignorant, little boy that Arthur had first met.

But, Alfred no longer treated their exchange as a game.

No longer, did he react to Arthur's lenience with an expression of victory. _It was like he actually cared._

About Arthur. About his well-being.

And that was what scared him the most.

"You just stole my sodding position as student president, you prat." The green eyed male glowered with dull, venomous eyes. "Did you really think that you could just walk in here and act as if none of that bloody happened?"

The green eyed blond despised the stricken expression that fell on Alfred's face then. It made him feel like a villain. Like the sandy-haired blond was doing something wrong. He wasn't. He couldn't be.

"The ballots aren't counted until after we get back to school! You don't know if I won yet!" Alfred argued, jumping up to his feet so that the two were eye level. Arthur would not allow the American to win the conflict. "Do you believe that you'll lose, Alfred?"

The older teen chose his question carefully. His words utilizing the guilt and pressure so that all fell on the American. Because there were only two answers to the question. Yes or no.

Say no – and insult Arthur's efforts, his confidence and his entire being. And label him to be unequal in all aspects to the American. Say no, and reveal all the lies of kindness that Arthur knew the other must have been hiding.

Say yes – and insult his own efforts. His title as a hero. His own self-esteem.

Arthur waited in silence for Alfred's answer. One minute then, two - he waited. Then, the Briton ended the younger's misery.

"I won't win, Alfred. You know that. The school hates me."

Alfred tried to protest. But no words came from his mouth. Because he knew it was true.

The green eyed male continued to watch the changes to Alfred's expression. They moved along a spectrum – determined, fallen, stricken and aghast. There was nothing Alfred could say, except for:

"That's not true!"

Arthur almost chuckled at the effort. But, again, his actions felt wrong. His mind condemning his own words into that of a criminal.

This was one of the reasons that he hated Alfred F. Jones.

Despite being in the entertainment business. The corrupt, vain part of society that decomposed people's souls to their core, he still stood strong. Unbroken. Pure.

Innocent, however arrogant he may be.

And Arthur could only be seen as dirty in comparison. And now, with Alfred's attitude towards him transitioning into something more genuine, the green eyed male could no longer justify his hate towards him. So the only thing left he could do was hate was himself.

And he did.

"Don't come back, Alfred," the green eyed male repeated. His chest felt heavy, his motive for arguments lost with his thoughts.

Arthur wanted to despise Alfred F. Jones. He wanted to hate him beyond any living being. But he couldn't. And if he couldn't hate, what could the Briton do?

Love him?

Impossible.

"We can't be friends," Arthur made the motion of shutting the entranceway. "Not when the bloody world doesn't want us to be."

The Briton blinked, waiting for the click of his door. He looked down and to the right when all he heard was a groan of pain.

"Fuck, it hurts!"

Arthur heard Alfred swear. He saw the American's fingers jammed into the door space. The smaller blond released his grip on the knob on instinct, allowing the blue eyed male to pry it open once more.

"That's no fair, Artie!" Alfred pushed the door, picking up the previously floored gift bag and shoving it into Arthur's arms. "I came here to give ya a present and all you give me is that stupid speech!" He pouted. "Haven't you heard the saying: an eye for an eye? You gotta give me something just as good as what I'm giving you."

He smothered the bag into the Briton's face. "I should get like a kiss or something."

And with his declaration, Alfred leaned forward, stealing a kiss on the cheek for himself. "Like that!"

Just as simple as that, he kissed and ran, winking at the smaller male. "See ya later, Artie, I'll visit you tomorrow!"

Arthur snapped out of the stupor that Alfred's reaction had caused him. He glared at the taller man. "Didn't you hear a bloody word I just said?!"

Alfred turned his back, laughing. "Sure I did! Don't care though!"

He waved behind him as he strutted down the hall. His business for the day was done, the American would start again tomorrow. And thus, as easily as that, he was gone.

USUK

Alfred crouched down at the end of the hall just outside of the sight of Arthur's apartment door. His smile was gone as he stared at the dirty brown floor of the corridor. It was an ugly colour.

The building was old, its sturdiness questionable. Truthfully, the first comment that had tried to exit his mouth when Arthur had opened the door was to say how crappy the place he lived in was. The man's living space itself was hardly bigger than Alfred's own bedroom – even with the combination of the kitchen and bathroom. It was hardly understandable how the man lived in such squalor.

No wonder he was so angry all the time.

The blue eyed male sighed, satisfied at least that Arthur had 'accepted' his gift. He had expected the fight, steeled himself for it. But, still hurt a bit.

Alfred just couldn't wrap an idea of 'why' Arthur hated him so much. Why the man pushed him away, no matter how honestly he tried to get close. Tomorrow though, he'd come back. Just like he said. Because a hero always kept his promises.

He'd return to smile at the green eyed male. To talk with him and laugh with him until Arthur smiled alongside him.

Because he loved Arthur Kirkland.

And even though the game was over, it didn't mean that their relationship was. And Alfred would take it to the next level. His goal hadn't changed. Not since the beginning. Within the game and outside of it.

The goal to make Arthur Kirkland love him.

USUK

_Um. Hi. Sixteenth chapter. Thanks so much for not being sick of me yet. Reviews are really nice._

_I don't know what to talk about in authors notes. So, I'll just give tidbits of my life, I guess. Burnt my hand last week after boiling coffee grinds splashed onto it. I work in a coffee shop right now so I guess it's not surprising. A coffee shop in Canada...take a guess. Anyways, I had second-degree burns all over my fingers and the blisters popped. It was gross. Haha, if you're grossed out, then mission accomplished. Well, 'til next chapter..._


	17. Bad dreams and sweet nighmares

_Bad dreams and sweet nightmares._

_ A/N: Well, hello again. Um, it's been like a year, I think...sorry about that. You've probably heard all the excuses I've stored up before - like school, life, work...stuff in general...so I'm going to be lazy and not bother going into detail. Okay. This chapter is mainly Arthur-centric right now just because. Sorry for the lack of USUK. Names of minor characters, I found online on the hetalia wikia site or some journals that listed commonly used names so none of them really belong to me. I'm rusty so please be nice. Well, I guess you could be mean but I'd be a bit sad if you were. Now that the boring AN is out of the way, here's the chapter: _

USUKUSUKUKUSK

Arthur liked sleep the most.

Sleep was that time of day – the only time – when he could allow his mind to fade. No problems, no memories; there wasn't anything, really. And that was the part that Arthur liked best. Next, would be the few precious seconds upon waking – the groggy moment in which he forgot pain and believed that everything was okay – and that everything was _going _to be okay. That he wasn't laying on cold hard ground, nor was snow beginning to steal the heat from his body.

Arthur opened his eyes.

"Bloody hell..." he grumbled, slapping away half-melted slush off his face. A darkening sky was blanketing the teen with snow, freezing his already frozen limbs even further. Not that Arthur really minded. After all, if he had been topside on the ground and unconscious for – he slipped out his phone (thank god it was still there!) – three hours, then his body would have probably had a helluva ache if not for the numbing cold.

Arthur forced his body up, glancing around as he tried to determine what had happened. He was in an empty lot, weeds not quite dying from the cold weather surrounding him. There was a rusted garbage bin at the corner of the property – not that it was really used, judging from the presence of oreo cookie wrappers and other crap scattered on the ground.

_A typical empty lot,_ the boy concluded. _A typical empty lot surrounded by brick buildings. _

Arthur felt around the dirt, heaving a sigh of relief at the discovery of his bag – and wallet – in safe and perfect condition, if you ignored the mud that stuck to them. He crossed out the idea that he was mugged. Arthur checked himself for injuries, noting a few sore spots on his extremities and a couple on his stomach and back as well. He was roughed up a bit, the teen concluded. If life was gracious, then the cold would have prevented any possible bruises from forming.

The teen remained sitting on the dirt for a good few moments as the gears in his head began to move again. He had been walking to work, Arthur remembered. The Briton had been running late, so he decided to take a shortcut by cutting through the side of a bar. Arthur clutched his head, feeling a lump at the back of it as he forced his mind to work backwards. His memory came to him in chunks:

There were a couple of drunks leaning against the wall. They remembered him. They knew him – from TV somewhere, they said. Told him how they knew he killed a girl. Wondered why he was walking free. Then they talked shit about the US government. They talked shit about him. Talked shit about the world. Then they said that he deserved to be punished for what he did_._

Arthur didn't really remember what happened after that. He could guess though. The men had probably decided to rough him up in the empty lot, evident from his aching body and location. Then the teenager might have lost his footing, fallen backwards and hit his head. The fact that Arthur didn't wake up after that most likely scared the drunks away.

"Christ..." the Briton swore, throwing himself down to his hands and knees before forcing himself back up. The time spent after his awakening was getting his blood moving faster already – pushing back the cold that had settled there. And, as predicted, pain began to grow where numbness had once made its home.

The first thing that Arthur did upon standing was call in to work. The entire three hours that he had spent unconscious were three hours that he was supposed to be waiting tables.

"Ah, Yao..." Arthur began to go through the motions of apologizing for his absence: "Yes...I'm sorry...I know there's no point if I came in now...alright...I'll see you tomorrow."

The blonde hung up the call, checking his work schedule:

12PM – 4 PM – work at Yao's place

430PM – 830PM – inventory at the toy store

9PM – X – Bonneland.

It was 3:30.

Arthur tried to stretch out his pain as he looked for an exit. He walked towards the sound of cars and people – no more alleyways for him - keeping his head down as he paced. With the time he had left, the teenager could return home and clean himself up. That way, no one would be none the wiser of what happened.

On arrival, Arthur went immediately to his first aid kit in the bathroom. Though upon observing his injuries, first aid was deigned unnecessary. The coldness had done its job to prevent the blood rising to his skin and forming bruises. It was something Arthur was endlessly thankful for, because the idea of the others -Francis, Kiku, Gilbert or even Alfred – finding about his injuries again was something he wasn't really looking forward to. The fuss they would make, and their insistence that he go to a hospital would be an unwelcome disturbance.

Plus the hospital bills would cripple him. Even if the chance that Francis would offer to pay the bills was high, where would be the Briton's pride if he accepted?

Arthur had been careless in that fiasco with the girls on the roof, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again. The Briton returned the kit back into storage, making sure he still had time to spare before leaving for work. Despite the lack of need for first aid, Arthur could feel soreness seeping into his muscles, crippling his movement slightly – it was still tolerable though.

After throwing on a clean pair of trousers and a sweater, Arthur placed on a peacoat before heading back out into the winter cold. He didn't miss a beat as he stepped out the door, locking it behind him. The teenager still felt like crap, that couldn't be denied; but, after missing an entire shift of work, he literally couldn't afford to skip the next one. Because rent really didn't pay itself.

USUKUSUK

The green eyed male heaved a thirty pound box across the room. He dropped it in front of an empty shelf, forcing it open. It contained a handful of barbie dolls still in their wrappings. Arthur placed them on the shelf in an orderly fashion. At least, until a piece of plastic prodded him in the cheek.

"Like, what's wrong with your eyebrows? I can, like, give you some pointers on how to, like, shape them you know!"

Arthur craned his head towards his coworker – a blond haired Danish man, attempting ventriloquism with a barbie doll.

"I'm an expert at make up, you know!" the man mocked in high pitch. "All you gotta do is smear sparkles and pink paint on your face and you're set!"

The green eyed male smirked, opening a box that he had placed on the shelf and slipping his own doll out: "And I suppose you helped out with that man's hairdo?" Arthur took on an overly feminine accent in a high pitch, moving one of his dolls arms to point at his coworker's spiky hair. "You've got my compliments! It's looks rather sharp, I mean, you could probably open a bloody can with it!"

"Harumph! Though I _could _question the style, I have to say your eyebrows do rather well in practicality also," the Dane replied. "I've seen something similar on television as well! One of those feather dusters?"

Arthur was about to throw back a retort when both dolls were plucked from the two men's hands.

"How many times do I have to remind you two not to play with the merchandise?"

A platinum blond male loomed over the pair with cold blue eyes – his entire being exuding a sense of 'I take no bullshit' authority, though his expression never changed. "Arthur! Stop encouraging him!" the Norwegian manager reprimanded. He turned to the Dane. "And you, Mikkel, these dolls are going off your pay cheque!"

A look of horror dawned on Mikkel's face though it was quickly hidden with a snort. "That's no problem, Lukas! I've got tons of dough!" The Danish man puffed up his chest, not wanting to seem inferior to the Norwegian male – who, in turn, scoffed. "I'm the one who hands over and determines your pay cheque every two weeks. And don't think I don't know you bought that giant axe to decorate your wall."

Lukas began to drag the other man away to work on another section of the shelves, leaving Arthur alone. The green eyed male smiled to himself, grateful for the short entertainment before resuming his work. His arms were aching from the repetitive motions of placing items on the shelf, as was his shoulders and back from carrying the boxes. The soreness and aches from earlier had yet to fade, adding on to his fatigue. Arthur could barely move – yet he continued to force himself to; he could barely keep his his eyes open – yet he did.

Arthur sighed, wondering if he should be proud or ashamed of his ability to hide things – to lie. Just as he did for the few weeks before Alfred found out about his 'rendevous'' with those girls. Just like how he did with everyone, pretending that he was alright. And just like he did with himself, pretending that just because he worked for it, he had a future. Since that was the American dream wasn't it? And he was in America. So surely, everything would be alright.

The Briton got up at the end of his shift, waving his coworkers goodbye as he smiled.

It was 8:35 PM.

USK

The fact that he worked at Bonneland was another one of Arthur's secrets – or lies – some people would call it. If anyone found out, the paparazzi or whatever, they'd be all over him. Stabbing and prying open secrets, truths and lies that were much safer sleeping. They'd probably say that he had no remorse of the tragedy that continued to haunt him. Because, how could he return to the very company – the very building - that the one he murdered once walked? Surely, it would be because he was a heartless bastard who had felt no guilt for what he'd done.

For that reason, only Francis – and maybe a few of the managers knew of his position there. It was only Francis though, who knew the reason why. They even designated the top floor of the Bonneland building simply for him. All he had to do was enter when most of the models were busy and slip his way to the top floor. No one would see him enter and because he always left past midnight after lockup, no one would see him leave. For extra security measures, the door to his office – a large empty space, housing a single mahogany desk - was always locked, his windows permanently curtained as well.

"Well, hello there again, little brother."

Arthur looked up from paperwork – accounts and all that jazz (similar for what he did for the student council) – at a blinking computer screen. A window featuring a red haired man popped to the forefront of it. His older brother.

"Hard at work again, I see." the man on the screen chuckled, revealing a thick Scottish accent. Despite all of them being born in England, each of Arthur's elder siblings – all three of them- had been stationed in different parts of the UK. Thus, they acquired the accent of the places they now called home. Arthur refused to adopt the American accent though.

"What do you want, Alistair?" Arthur replied to the comment without the effort of looking up. His brother had taken up the responsibility to ensure that the younger man always completed his work – putting aside the time to actually call at least once a week. Of course, the gesture shouldn't be mistaken for brotherly love. There was entertainment value for the man calling Arthur up.

Arthur heard another chuckle from the speakers followed with a tsk. "I was just informed that your school is on winter break. Care to tell me why you didn't inform me yourself?"

This time, the younger male put down his pen, placing attention to the screen. "Why does it bloody matter? It's not like it changes anything."

Alistair waggled his finger at his web cam. "_It's not like it changes anything_, what?"

Arthur frowned at his brother's playful tone. "It's not like it changes anything, _dear brother."_

The red eyed male grinned with glee. He went off screen for a moment before returning back with a cigarette in his mouth. "Really, one thing I regret agreeing with father's decision to keep you in America would be blowing this in your face..." He blew the cigarette towards the computer. "- and seeing you _cring__e__. _It's such a blooming shame you're not here to entertain me."

Arthur's face darkened slightly, but he hid it by busying himself once more with his papers. It would do him no good to anger his brother with a sarcastic reply. He couldn't decide if his actions were a good or bad choice though, as his sibling continued talking.

"It would have changed everything, you nyaff," he said, billowing out another cloud of smoke that Arthur was thankful he couldn't smell. "With all that time on your hands, I could have doubled your workload."

The teenager cringed at the thought.

"Ah hah! That's the look that I was searching for!" Alistair exclaimed with a laugh, tapping his cigarette on a tray off screen. "Maybe I should do it now, just for kicks!"

"Alistair," Arthur reasoned, dreading the idea that his already endless paperwork would increase further. "I'm already doing all of this branch's paperwork and Francis is handling the company's advertising. It's a sodding heavy load, what more could we do?"

The red haired male's glee faded as he put down his cigarette. "Is that a bloomin' complaint I'm hearing, Arthur?

The blond haired teen's eyebrow's crunched. "What?" He shook his head slightly. "No."

Alistair smiled again, though the same glee from before was no longer present. He began typing something on his computer before sending an instant message.

372 531.

The number flickered on screen, causing the Briton to flinch. To anyone else, the numbers were simply numbers, but Arthur knew what they were. He knew very well.

"Three hundred seventy-two thousand and five hundred thirty-one pounds." the Scotsman declared. "Shall I reacquaint you with the gravity of your debt to the family, Arthur?"

He continued on. "Or should I just remind you _how much effort and how much money it cost _ finding and silencing those blooming Americans that had been _so eager _to condemn you in the jury box?"

Arthur grit his teeth, slamming his hands on his desk. "_They bloody knew!" _He breathed in slowly, willing himself to calm down. "_They bloody knew_ that it was an accident! I didn't kill her. _I didn't kill her. _They wouldn't have said I was sodding guilty even if you didn't bribe them!"

Despite his brother's anxious state coupled by the vague insistence, Alistair laughed. "Well, too late to find out, isn't it, you little nyaff? Everything had pointed to you, anyways."

"There was no sign of foul play!" Arthur interjected. "Everything was circumstantial!"

Alistair scoffed, putting his cigarette back into his mouth. "Who cares? Did you even take a good look at their faces? They wanted action to happen – and naming you innocent wouldn't have given them that."

The Scot's face transformed into one of distaste. "Those Americans are _always _babbling on about serving justice – being heroes - but then, the moment you wave money in front of their faces, they snatch it up like wild hyenas."

Arthur bit his lip. He had been through this conversation repeatedly, over and over again, each repetition reopening the wound that time was supposed to heal. The last comment made the Briton twitch though, the content about heroes hitting closer to home than it should. A blue eyed American's image crossed his mind.

"Are you done, Alistair?" Arthur choked out. "You called to check to see how the work was coming along, right? It's fine, there's no need to continue this conversation."

"What's wrong with wanting to have a talk with my baby brother?" he asked, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. "I mean, we still have to talk about your responsibilities when you return to Lon-"

Arthur cut him off. "I am not going back." There was a mixture of determination tinged with desperation mixed in the teenager's voice. Alistair laughed it off.

"Really?" he said. "You really think that?"

The red haired man leaned towards the camera. "We gave you until the end of your high school career to pay off the debt, little brother." He whispered into the mic, staring directly at Arthur from the otherside of the ocean. "£ 372 531 from 500 000 is what's left to pay, Arthur. You've already spent three years trying, do you really think you can pay the rest in less than one?" Alistair sneered at the absurdity of the idea. "Well, you _are _in America. The land of the free, the home of the brave and the American dream. Maybe it's possible." He laughed. "I highly doubt it though."

Arthur didn't know how to respond. There was logic in the words that the teenager couldn't refute. It held a truth that he didn't want to hear.

"One more thing before I go, brother." Alistair had retreated from the camera as he leaned back into an office chair. "I've some business in America soon, I'll be expecting a warm greeting. _We are family, after all."_

The chat window blacked out at that point, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts – an event that was never a good thing.

Alistair was coming here?

Arthur swallowed, burying his head in his hands. A headache was cutting through his brain, jumbling up the numbers on the paper. The Briton felt a split-second moment of panic at the thought of himself being incapable to work until he remembered that it was his last spreadsheet for the day. He could afford to continue on the next day – or later on – judging how it was four in the morning. The green eyed male opened one of the three drawers at the bottom of his desk, slipping the paper into a hanging folder labelled "Alfred F. Jones."

This was yet another secret that Arthur kept.

His 'job' at the agency required him to collect information on all of its models, noting downwhich media names they appeared in, what was done, how many times and how much money they made. Alfred though doubling his modelling life with his student one still had a number of appearances under his belt – judging from the bulging folder.

That's why the acts of pretending not to know the American upon their encounter at the school had all been lies. He always knew who he was – hell, he'd been one of the few who reviewed the video application Alfred had sent in. And it'd be a secret, but the Briton had been one of the only ones deeming Alfred a worthy applicant – the male had sent in a video of himself strutting all over the place, like a circus animal, and that hadn't sat well with all the others.

His words: who is that? The one he first muttered to Kiku upon seeing him enter the school's courtyard was yet another part of his job. Finding out how members of the public saw him.

And when Arthur had been assigned to tour him around the school, the American's question: 'have we met before?' did indeed throw him off, but Alfred couldn't have known, Arthur was too careful. It was resolved with a witty response and Alfred's recognition of the blond as being the one leaning out of the window as the American had entered the school.

It had been months since both he and Alfred had made their first actual meeting in person. And still, the American didn't even suspect who he was.

The irate little Briton.

The angry student council president.

His counterpart in the petty little game they played.

That was who Arthur probably was to him. And the teenager would gladly keep it that way – even if it made him the pretty little liar he was.

With the papers left on the desk and the computer properly shut down, the Briton trudged towards the elevator. Usually, he would take the effort to take the stairs – just to keep in shape, not that he really needed to though, with the amount of work he did – but, his exhaustion had tainted his balance to the point that Arthur was afraid that he'd trip down the stairs.

The Briton crossed the lobby, going as far as to reach for the door knob of the final exit before he realized that he had forgotten the key to re-lock the door after he left. He swore, turning back again to glance at the elevator. Arthur really, really, _truly,_ had exhausted his energy. It was at a level where Arthur doubted he could make the trip back upstairs. Instead, he made it to the halfway point where the couch lied and he sat on it.

_Just a few minutes, _Arthur thought.

Arthur didn't mind that his mind went blank then. Because the Briton really loved to sleep the most. After all, he always forgot the hell his life was in. And in the non-reality he created, no one was dead. No one condemned him for anything. It was the perfect haven that he never really wanted to wake up from.

USUK

Alfred poked and prodded at Arthur's face, taking quick snapshots on his phone as he did so. It was seven in the morning – much to early for work in the American's opinion – but, upon finding the sleeping beauty on the couch, he didn't mind much.

"Arrrtiiie!" he sang. "Waakkee uppp!"

He flicked the Briton on the cheek, pinching him next and even contemplating if he should find a permanent marker to draw whiskers. Unfortunately, it was a venture that wouldn't find fruit as Arthur's eyes flickered, revealing the recognizable green pools that Alfred liked so much.

"Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed, excited of the other male's awakening. He knelt at the side of the couch like a dog as he waited for Arthur's face to come back to life. It didn't though as the older teen blinked groggily before closing his eyes again.

_Well that wouldn't do, _Alfred thought. He pinched Arthur's cheek again, forcing the Briton's eyes back open to look at him.

Arthur's eyes were still quite dim though, even when the smaller teen was staring him directly in the eyes. There was no recognition in his face, and even a moment later when a hint of knowing appeared – it seemed wrong.

"Jeanne?" Arthur slurred, his voice husky with sleep.

Alfred frowned. That wasn't his name. He lifted his hand to make one more forceful prod to wake the other for good, but then he remembered that he had heard that name before.

Wasn't that the name of Arthur's ex-girlfriend?

Alfred felt a wave of cold irritation wash over him and, instead of poking Arthur awake, he pinched his nose – cutting off one air supply until the Briton spluttered awake.

"Bloody hell, Alfred! Are you mental?!"

The American smiled, glad that the teenager was back to his regular self. He struck his hero pose, stabbing his thumb to himself the moment Arthur's attention was on him alone.

"Jones!" he stated. Arthur just looked bewildered.

"The only name that you can call me that starts with a 'J' is Jones!" He winked. "I prefer Alfred though."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped the remainder of sleep from his eyes. "What in sodding hell are you high off of?"

The American watched the Briton stretch out his limbs, noticing the strain in Arthur's face as he did so. He easily brushed it off as a hard night's sleep on the couch though.

"Hey, Artie? What're you doing here so early in the morning?"

If Arthur froze at the question, then Alfred hadn't paid enough attention to notice it. The green-eyed male staggered upwards, brushing non-existent dust off his person. "I was waiting for Francis," he said, continuing to brush dirt off his relatively clean clothing just to avoid eye contact with the other male. Alfred tilted his head, determining that what Arthur had just stated didn't make any sense. Francis didn't come in 'til way past noon on most days – his manager had set him up for several out of state photo shoots.

"Uh, Francis ain't even in the city right now, Arthur."

This time, Alfred caught the look of panic on the smaller teen's face – though he misinterpreted it. "Is it an emergency, Arthur? Did something happen or something?"

Arthur shook his head before cursing the idea that he had lost an opportunity to form a perfectly good excuse. He opted to just use a generic one. "I just had to discuss something with him."

"'Bout what?" Alfred asked, innocently. Arthur frowned, his mind still not at a state in which he could easily create a well-formed excuse. Must've been the lack of sleep. His brain was taking longer than usual to snap into the usual alertness. So, he simply switched the subject. "Nothing really, anyways, why are you here?"

"Toris told me that he'd treat me to homemade burgers if I managed not to be late for work for the entire winter break!" Alfred revealed. "The guy's an awesome cook! So I've been setting like three alarm clocks to make sure I get here on time!" He shrugged. "Sometimes, I get here a bit too early."

Once again, Alfred paid enough attention to notice the look of relief on Arthur's face at the change of subject. He opted to decide that the situation must have been serious, cause after all, the American could tell that Arthur was lying about something – despite the innocence that the blue eyed male displayed.

Alfred chose not to tell Arthur that he had arrived right when the custodial workers had unlocked the door. And that they, like himself, had been surprised at the Briton's presence there. Because the door had remained locked the entire night through, and they believed themselves to be the only ones with the main key. Which meant that Arthur had stayed over night – not arrived early to wait for Francis as he said. The American thought it best not to call out the fib. He wondered why Arthur would lie about something so simple though.

Alfred watched as Arthur went to pick up his bag from its place at the foot of the couch. The conversation seemed to have been deemed terminated as neither of them really knew what was left to say other than the generic social gestures that they really didn't want to go through. Still, not wanting Arthur to leave just yet, Alfred threw something out into the air.

"So, how's vacation going so far?" he asked.

Arthur turned back to glance at him after ensuring that everything in his bag was in order. He didn't smile that fake smile the student council president tended to give to others – he hardly ever did with Alfred – something the American was grateful of. But his face was set into a neutral position as if the male didn't really want to talk anymore about anything. His voice though still held a hint of emotion - proof that Arthur hadn't just suddenly shut down into an unemotional robot.

"It's...the same as the last time you saw me." he stated. Alfred responded with a laugh. "Dude, that was a week ago! Life can't be that boring."

Arthur scowled. "Well, I apologize that I've spent every bloody waking hour working. I've rent to pay, you realize – some of us don't live with their parents!"

Alfred's hand flew to his chest in feign hurt. "Aw, that stabbed a little. Can't complain though, I like my place. Free food, man." He tilted his head though. "Aren't your parents supposed to be like multi-billionaires? I mean, you're a _Kirkland, _right? I just found out online that they're like the biggest production agencies in the entertainment industry. They've got like models, musicians and the whole shebang!"

Arthur twitched at every single detail that Alfred had listed of his family. The American knew nothing about them. He had no right to judge him or make assumptions about his family like the rest of the world did. Arthur threw back a retort. "Well, I'm glad to see that you're finally versed in who my family is. Maybe you can start throwing my name around just to see how all those magazine agencies react."

Arthur bit his lip at the prospect of the male actually going around spreading his name. His tone had a tinge of sarcasm to it, but he believed that Alfred would be the last person to be aware of it. If Alfred actually did, the repercussion would be more than dire – especially if his brother was going to be there to deliver it. Arthur began to feel a little dizzy from their conversation and the thought of Alistair arriving in America. It would be hell if his sibling would be true to his word.

The green eyed male began to head towards the exit. It was the only thing left that he could think to do. Arthur wouldn't need to re-lock it during the day hours so it was fine if he had forgotten his key in his office.

The Briton was only four steps away from the door when a wave of nausea hit forcing him to keel over. He tried to straighten himself up to no avail. There was only a few steps that he needed to get through and he would be alright. Just a few more steps and his immediate goal would be accomplished. Arthur's vision reeled as he took another step. He could feel Alfred watching him, standing up to come help him.

No. Arthur could make it. Just a few more steps. He didn't need anyone's help. He had shrugged off a beating the other day, worked practically twelve hours straight and had still been walking perfectly. Three more steps was nothing. His determination wouldn't be that easy to break.

Arthur could hear Alfred nearing him, shouting his name. But, he was too focused on reaching his goal – the exit. Freedom.

The Briton felt his hand reach cold metal – the door knob – and a wave of relief flushed over him, weakening his knees. He dropped down, feeling his stomach muscles churning something up his throat. In his blurred vision, Arthur only saw a splash of stomach acid and saliva staining the floor.

_When was the last time he ate?_ Arthur thought. The Briton really couldn't remember.

Arthur felt a pair of arms holding him up and away from the floor. Distantly, he heard the sound of his name echoing somewhere. But his mind was beginning to fade just a little bit. Just to the point where he couldn't even make out his surroundings or remember the person who he was just with. Arthur felt a sense of despair at his loss of control in the situation before the feeling faded into the dark along with his consciousness. He felt a little bit of comfort at the familiar feeling of falling back to sleep.

Really, Arthur might have loved sleep a little too much.

_A/N:_

_ Hi, here's another note for you guys just to let you know what'll be going on with updates. Right now, I've got three papers and two more midterms due within the next month so I'm probably not gonna be able to do much during that time span. Then the month after that are finals so basically, my life is screwed and dominated by coffee. I wasn't even a coffee person before school started, lol. I'll be trying to fit in time to write but, updates are probably going to eclectic. I'll do my best not to go MIA again... Other stories will probably be on hiatus for now...I'll make this one my main one though...but I signed up for the Usxuk secret santa cause I'm an idiot for giving myself more stuff to do but that shit's fun._

_Bye. 3_


	18. You don't know

When Arthur opened his eyes to face the white washed roof of the hospital, his first emotion was the farthest away from surprise. Nor was it any close to confusion. After all, it was difficult not to recognize the neutral, ubiquitous colour of the building that housed both the living and the dead. No, the emotion he felt was darker than that: despair. Because, if he was somehow here, then his facade failed. Someone had found him in a moment of weakness – his condition so pathetic that they had to call upon medical services to fetch him.

_Who?_ Arthur wondered, forcing his eyes to loll side to side to examine his surroundings. From what he could see, the teen was stuck inside a private room – a single bed in the centre of a confining six by six metre space stuffed with medical equipment that Arthur was absolutely sure was unnecessary. Arthur blinked his eyes closed, tracking back to the moment his mind still had a grip on consciousness. Who brought him here?

If the man – Arthur assumed his benefactor was male – was able to snatch the teen a room of his own then, obviously, the man had the funds to purchase the services. But, why would he put the effort to secure the room for him?

Sympathy.

His benefactor was either foolishly kind, or already knew him then. Arthur leaned towards the latter answer. He dug deeper into his memories, trying to separate the haze that clouded the images that appeared before the darkness.

_Arthur!_

Alfred's voice rang through his head in a shrill cry, forcing the teen to flinch at the sheer emotion behind his own name. The sudden "sound" split his sight, leaving him with a head ache that had him cringing in pain on the colourless sheets. It had been Alfred. That stupid American had been the one to bring him here, the one who had seen Arthur at his weakest point – a place that only a handful of people had witnessed. And now, the fool knew. He knew how pathetic Arthur really was if he couldn't even keep himself from collapsing to walk himself to a hospital if he just so disgustingly ill.

"You're awake?"

Arthur startled at the sudden voice appearing to his right. He hadn't even heard the door open nor the clack of dress shoes that came with every swift step the man that Arthur assumed to be his doctor made. The white lab coat coupled with the air of confidence and indifference hiding the underlying exhaustion gave his profession away.

The teenager tilted his head to examine the man before he could step forward to reciprocate the gesture with the bedridden boy. Arthur, thankfully, could not recognize the man so there was a possibility that the doctor was not familiar with the others of the same profession whom the Briton was forced to "visit" in the past. Back when his manner wasn't quite as gentlemanly as he was now. They had treated him as equivalent to rust on a bed frame, maybe even a murderer. Possibly even rightly so.

"Hello, Mr. Kirkland. My name is Gupta Muhammad Hassan." He took a step forward, stopping at the way Arthur eyed him and the medical chart in his had warily. "You're in the hospital and I'm the doctor overseeing your stay here. Do you remember how you got here?"

Arthur snorted, answering with a sneer as he turned away. The gesture inadvertantly allowed the doctor to sneak in closer to the teen's bedside.

"I don't. It'd be a bit of a surprise if I did, seeing how I was unconscious before I realized anyone came to my aid."

The doctor frowned slightly at Arthur's tone, though he chose to ignore it as he proceded to place the stethoscope to his ears. He waited until his patient relented and turned back to face him with a nod – permissing him to continue on with his examination. Arthur flinched at the slight cold of metal, despite metal being insulated by the lamentable fabric covering his chest in the form of a hospital gown.

"I apologize for having to change your clothing without your permission," the doctor murmured, still listening to his patient's heartbeat. "Your shirt and ends of your pants were stained with stomach fluids. Your companion as well was...he was making a fuss that we thoroughly examine you for anything that could be ailing you. It was more convenient to do so with the gown."

Arthur flinched at the mention of his "companion," knowing full well who the doctor meant.

"You're doing well, quite a relief considering the stress and malnourishment your body's been through," his doctor concluded, running his gaze towards Arthur's arms – all of which still carried bruises, however faded they were. Arthur pushed away the urge to pull the blanket over him, to hide the shame that was himself.

"Seeing how I'm doing fine, surely there isn't further need for my presence here." He directed his gaze towards the outside window, watching the dull view of falling snow. Arthur silently wished that it was spring. At least then, there would have been a tease of colour to comfort him; instead, there was only dull white both inside and out. The doctor didn't seem to mind, following his patient's gaze and smiling with cheer.

"You know, in my home country – Egypt – it snowed for the first time in a century."

Arthur didn't look at him. Dr. Hassan continued speaking.

"I wish I was there to see it, honestly. Imagine: the pyramids that had never even known the concept of snow in my childhood blanketed white." He chuckled. My parents were in shock. They believed the world to be ending and wanted to know if I was alright."

Arthur stared blankly at the man, his silent sufficient in terminating the light conversation. The doctor shrugged his shoulders, waiting unsuccessfully for any sort of verbal response from his patient. He followed the gesture by walking up to tap the IV drip back beside Arthur's bed.

"You've been in bed for about ten hours give or take," he murmured, checking the liquid levels. "Malnutrition, presumable work-related exhaustion."

The doctor gave a tsk as he gave the teenager a one over. "Do you live on your own?"

Arthur bit his lip, knowing what his answer would give him: another lecture on how seventeen year olds weren't responsible enough to take care of themselves. It was a topic that never seemed to leave anyones lips no matter how flawless he completed his work: both as a student and employee.

"Yes, I do," he grit out, already forming his retorts against the chastising words that was sure to come. His expectations came short when all that followed his response was silence as his doctor continued to find an almost obsessive interest with the teen's IV. Arthur could see the man was thinking though.

_Probably trying to decide the best way to deal with me short of kicking me out, _the teen thought bitterly.

"After the drip is done you'll be free to go," Dr. Hassan spoke conversationally, deigning the IV bag worthy after the prolonged examination. His eyes then found the small aluminum stool by the side of the hospital bed. He pulled it closer to himself and took a seat, taking renewed interest in the clipboard that he had brought into the room.

Arthur took a sick satisfaction in knowing that his thoughts had been right. The doctor was probably more than willing to kick him out of the bed and throw him out the window. His neutral words sugar coated by professionalism and good bedside manner. No doubt the doctor thought his flesh was just a waste of hospital space and services. They probably couldn't wait until he was out the doors. Maybe they even wished that he had bypassed the hospital visit and hopped straight into a coffin at the morgue.

If the doctor was aware of the teenager's irrational thoughts, he made no note of it. Rather, he seemed to ignore the blond completely - dim to the seventeen year old seething with angst on his hospital bed. It was only when his patient made the choice to initiate a conversation himself did the doctor react.

"What are you still doing here?" Arthur asked, clutching at the thin blankets that covered his emancipated form. His stress and lack of intake other than instant noodles and the obviously nutritionally balanced meals of mc donalds and fastfood had eaten away at his muscles. He no longer had the same tone or bulk that Alfred had seemed to admire when they had met a few months previously. It was a pathetic sight, in Arthur's opinion.

"Some light reading," Dr. Hassan responded. It was followed by a snort from the patient.

"Yes. I suppose a medical chart _does _fall into the category of light reading, doesn't it?" Arthur said drily, a sneer beginning to twitch at one side of his face.

"It does. Would you like a look?"

He handed the teenager the chart, his own face twitching with a small smile of amusement. It was filled with checks and illegible writing from top to bottom - and from the boy's face, he couldn't read a word.

"Would you like me to translate for you?" The doctor took the chart back, reading only the basic comments that had been written down at the bottom of the page.

"Short-term diet regimen planning required for treatment. Minor. Suspect of neglect. Social worker possibly required."

Arthur stiffened quite visibly at the last part of the doctor's words though he made no comment. It did not go unnoticed by his room companion, however.

"The last bit there is unnecessary, seeing that you live on you're own," the doctor said soothingly, watching as Arthur relaxed. "Though we'll have to talk to a family member - preferably the adult guaranteeing your apartment contract seeing how they're likely the most informed of your general situation."

Arthur's muscles froze a second time, his expression taking on a pained expression. "My brother. He's in the UK right now but he'll be visiting in a week or so."

"I see. Can I trust that you can make an appointment with the nurse at the desk downstairs?"

Arthur gave a slow nod, his mind already coming up with excuses not to do as the doctor asked. He just needed to eat more, right? It would be easy to take home more leftovers from Yao's restaurant. All he needed to do was that and everything would be alright?

"Alright, then I'll leave you here," the doctor declared, turning to leave. "Your things are in a bag on the floor by your bed. That model of yours thought that you'd be more comfortable if you knew where they were. Be sure to thank him."

The bed bound teenager's face twitched into a mix of acknowledgement and distaste as he began to count how many drips before he'd be free to leave. There was still half of the IV liquid left so a few hours at a least.

Arthur waited until he heard the doctor's footsteps completely receded from the hospital corridor before he took a peek at the side of his bed. Indeed, there was a plastic bag stuffed with his clothing and bag. With a grunt, the bag was pulled onto the bed as Arthur ruffled through the fabric to get to his phone.

_1 missed text message._

Arthur threw his phone back onto the bed. He knew the message was from Yao; he'd missed another shift. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did Alfred have to bring him to the hospital of places? If he'd found him at the agency, could he not have just laid him on the couch and be done with him? Why bother?

Arthur knew he didn't have to worry about the hospital charges, his brother had set everything up so that anything other than the basic living necessities that the blond paid for himself was charged to the Kirkland account. Thus, adding to his already un-payable debt.

It was impossible to escape, he knew. There was only a few more months left until graduation and the amount he owed was more than the average made in a decade. He'd be spirited away back to London to work for his father; with his brother supervising his every move. Bye bye freedom. Bye bye happiness.

Arthur slammed his head down to his pillow, throwing his forearm onto his eyes. He wouldn't allow tears to fall; that would be weak. And if he was weak, his family would find another way to exploit him; he knew this.

With a sigh, the teenager pulled out the laptop that was in his bag, taking a glance at the battery percentage before getting to work. He'd missed ten hours of his life that he wouldn't get back and now he needed to catch up. Arthur pulled up his student presidency campaign poster, his stern face looking up at him from the screen. It would have probably been better if he had smiled; would have gained him more popularity otherwise seeing how he wasn't all that bad looking…but, it just wasn't him to just smile like that.

Arthur knew that if he'd have chose to work as a model as Francis asked him to, he might have been able to pay the debt off. But right after Jeanne's death, he was afraid of how the public would have reacted to him; even now, if he were to reappear into public eye…the retribution would be even worse that he remembered to be. And back then, he'd almost given up on everything because of it. Arthur didn't think he'd be able to get through it twice.

_I, Arthur Kirkland promise__…_

The blond tilted his head, thinking what he should promise the school. Better lunches? He's already given that…larger budget? He's already stretched it as much as he could. With a sigh, Arthur flipped the screen down onto his laptop. Everything. Absolutely everything he could have done for the good of the school, he'd already done. Maybe it was good thing for the election, he was absolutely sure he'd lose; it was more a popularity contest than anything else. But then, he'd have more time.

More freedom before it all ends. He flipped his laptop shut.

Arthur breathed in deeply, holding his laptop with a hand over it on his chest. He closed his eyes, straining his ears as he heard the liquid beside him.

_Drip, drip, drip._

His eyes closed, allowing them to flutter shut. He reopened them, knowing that if he fell asleep now, he'd get nothing done. Arthur was just about to start on his laptop again when he head the door open again. He ignored it, thinking it was the doctor again.

"Hey, Artie."

Guess not.

Arthur eyed the other blond warily as the boy strut in, all smiles and sunshine. He looked down onto his own hands. How any human being could be so ignorant to the atmosphere or any sort of decorum baffled him.

"How've you been?" asked Alfred, shifting around the room as if he couldn't find a place to stand. He looked at the walls, the window before his eyes fell on the IV drip; he stepped over to poke it.

"Are you blind, or mentally disabled?" Arthur threw the insult though there wasn't really any bite left in it. He hadn't even bothered to look at the taller male beyond the initial glance. "I'm in a hospital bed with a needle on my arm."

"Yeah," affirmed Alfred, quite obviously. He sat down at the bottom corner of the bed, fidgeting. The action garnered a raised eyebrow from the Briton: maybe even the great Alfred F. Jones could feel nervous.

"I found you this morning," Alfred revealed.

"I realized that."

A pregnant pause filled the room; it was as though the volume of drips and breathing increased as neither teens spoke.

"The doc told me that it was 'cause you weren't taking care of yourself."

"The doctor should have kept his mouth shut," retorted Arthur. He pulled the plastic bag of this things closer to himself simply for the sake of having something to do. At the back of his mind, the green-eyed teen knew that he should thank the boy in front of him - but he couldn't bring himself to. "What are you doing here?" Arthur opted to say instead.

"I just got off work and the visiting hours were still on," explained Alfred. He watched as Arthur glanced at the IV bag that was still a quarter full.

"So, you alright now?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I will be when the bag's sodding empty."

Alfred coughed into his first. "Can I say something then?"

Arthur's face twitched at the inquiry. He glanced up to find the American staring right at him. The attention made him flush but he brushed it off to himself still being simply unwell. "It's not like you to ask," observed the Briton, following the other blond with his eyes as Alfred got up to stand at the side of the hospital bed. He coughed again, but Arthur supposed that the teen was just trying to clear his throat; honestly though, it sounded as if he was the one who belonged in the hospital.

"Well, go on. Anytime now would be great," said Arthur drily. He almost smirked when Alfred's face almost twitched into a frown. Alfred closed his eyes before opening them again with his mouth.

"You're a shit bag," he deadpanned. Arthur's own mouth dropped into an 'o.'

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked, stretching his neck forward as if he missed what Alfred said.

"You. Arthur. Are a stupid, bad-mouthed, idiotic, huge eye-browed, retarded _shit-bag,_" he spat. Arthur's closed his mouth, opening it again to respond though it seemed he found that no sound came out.

"I woke up this morning…" Alfred breathed. "…planning the best way to sweep you off your _fucking feet_ but you had to ruin everything just like you always did, didn't you? !"

He kicked the frame of the bed, shocking Arthur out of his stupor. "Well, _I apologize_ if my collapsing ruined your day. I didn't think I had any bloody control over it!" Arthur threw back, his nose held high. If he showed any fear at the way the American was towering over him, no one mentioned it. Alfred wasn't done with his rant though:

"Well if you'd actually eat for once so that you didn't vomit practically _nothing _onto the floor and _I don__'__t know_ actually SLEEP, maybe you wouldn't go around fainting like a goddamn girl!" he rebuked, blue eyes flaming with an anger that Arthur had never once witnessed in the American.

"I've been busy, alright! ?" Arthur shouted defensively. "I've had things I needed to do! Something you're unfamiliar with, I'm sure!"

"How hard is it to stuff food into that mouth of yours? !"

Arthur's face was flush with argument but Alfred didn't back down, still uncharacteristically glowering down at the bed ridden teenager. He was surprised when Alfred shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans, taking out a granola bar. The American kept it in his hand for a few long seconds and momentarily, Arthur believed that he was going to offer it to him. But instead, Alfred opened it himself and the Briton chastised himself; of course, Alfred hardly ever offered food to others. Glutton.

The Briton almost allowed his shoulder's to relax, however, before he could turn his head away from the American, he felt fingers take hold of his chin. Alfred was still glaring at him, and he tightened his grip on Arthur's face, forcing his mouth open. The granola bar, peeled and chocolate flavoured was shoved into his mouth. Arthur's eyes watered at the unwelcome intrusion and he choked.

"Chew," ordered Alfred. He didn't loosen his grip. Arthur was looking at him to something akin to fear but he didn't react. "I said _chew,_ Arthur."

Arthur's mouth closed once then twice and thrice the food, and he swallowed quickly. Then Alfred slammed his palm onto the mattress beside Arthur's thigh, looking down to floor at the sound of a small whimper.

"Do you have any _fucking _idea how scary it was?" he said. "You were just walking to the door. You were just walking to the door - just like that and you even had your hand so close to the door knob."

Arthur didn't say a word when Alfred's head ended up on his shoulder. He just stared at the messy blond hair in shock.

"Then you just dropped and I didn't know what to do! I called Mattie and the ambulance but you wouldn't wake up!"

Arthur heard the sound of Alfred swallow. He knew in situations like these - at least the ones he'd read in books - that he was supposed to pat the man on the back, maybe run his hand in his hair…any sort of comfort would do. But he found his hands couldn't move. It took a minute for even his voice to obey him.

"Why do you care?" rasped Arthur. Alfred moved his hands to grip at the smaller man's wrist; he noted how thin they were. They weren't like this when they first met only short months earlier.

"We're friends, Artie," he said, reverting back to the nick name. Despite how annoyed the shortened version of his name made him, Arthur felt relieved. However, the relief gave him back the energy to shove the American off him, glaring down at the blue eyed male.

"No. We're not friends," he murmured, glowering down at the man. He shook his head. "We're _not _friends."

"We are," Alfred insisted, looking up at the bedridden boy. "We're friends."

"_No, we__'__re not,__" _Arthur grit out, clenching his fists by his side. His voice raised as well. "This." He gestured between himself and Alfred. "…isn't friendship. It's not."

The shorter blond took another breath. "It's a game."

"Art— it's not…" Alfred began.

"IT"S A GAME," Arthur yelled. "It's a game because it can't be anything else. And I don't know what to call it if it's not!"

His breaths were starting to come out in short bursts. "Kiku…Gilbert, Xiao, Kyle…Francis. Those are my friends! They're my friends because _they know._ They know and I don't have to tell them anything because _they were there.__"_

"What?" Alfred frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? What can't we be friends?"

"Because you don't know!"

"…you don't know," repeated Arthur. "And I don't want to tell you."

Alfred stood up, brushing himself up. He had an inkling of what Arthur was trying to say to him and he grasped a hold of it. "Is this about your ex-girlfriend. The dead one?"

At Arthur's flinch, he knew he was right.

"Why can't you tell me?" he demanded. "Why can't you tell me when its been four years?"

"I don't trust you," said Arthur.

"Why? I haven't told anyone any of your secrets. Even when Kiku, Gilbert and everyone had been hinting at them ever since we met!" Alfred shouted. "I haven't even told anyone but Mattie that I brought you to the hospital because I didn't know if you wanted me to! So why can't you trust me?!"

"…because you're just like her," he grit out.

"What?"

"You're just like her!" Arthur shot out his hand to grab at Alfred's collar. "Down to the colour of your eyes and hair!" he hissed. "She made the same promises you did. The same offers you did! Then she lied!"

Arthur swallowed, throwing Alfred away by the collar. "She did exactly the same thing you're doing. Offering me your friendship and when I'm neck deep you'll throw me away, telling me it was my fault. It was my fault for pushing you away. It was my fault for taking you seriously in the first place." He sneered. "My birthday's in a few months. Maybe you'll take it up with Francis then just like she did!This time it won't be much of surprise but boo for you."

Alfred stepped forward, grabbing Arthur's wrist so he couldn't shove him away again. "I won't." he said firmly. "I really mean it!"

"Liar."

"I'm not a liar!"

Arthur glanced at the taller male. Alfred was looking at him with such earnest that he almost caved; but he wouldn't be taken in. Alfred was a model_, just like her._ Her protege even. He could look at the camera and make any face he wanted just for the fame.

"You are," insisted Arthur. "Even if you aren't aware of it yet, you're lying."

He closed his eyes. "Just leave, Alfred. This conversation is over." _I don__'__t want to reveal anymore._

The grip on his wrist didn't falter. "I'm staying here."

"Visiting hours are almost over."

"But not yet, they aren't," said Alfred.

"…just leave."

"No."

Arthur felt his energy drain and he turned away from Alfred's gaze. His eyes fell onto his phone.

_2 missed text messages_

He used his free hand to swipe the screen open. As he predicted, one was from Yao. The other one…

_Hello, little brother._

Arthur felt his chest tighten in despair.

_You wouldn__'__t believe how I felt when I got a call from America this morning. I thought it was from you, but what surprise it was when it was a hospital! Of course, being the brother you are so fortunate in having, I decided to move my plans forward._

_ I__'__ll see you tomorrow. _

Arthur closed his eyes, letting his phone screen fade to black.

Why?

Why couldn't he have come to this hospital to die?

A/N:

Hi there...reviews?


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